


evil's downfall

by cosmicwoosan



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Succubi & Incubi, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Blood and Gore, Bloody Kisses, Bloody Sex, Blow Jobs, Body Horror, Cunnilingus, Dark Comedy, Demon Sex, Demons, Dirty Talk, Face-Fucking, Female Ejaculation, First Kiss, First Time, Frottage, Genderbending sorta, Graphic Description of Corpses, Hand Jobs, Happy ending with a twist, Heart Eating, Human!Wooyoung, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Making Out, Masturbation, Moral Dilemmas, Multi, Multiple Orgasms, Murder, Rape/Non-con Elements, Recreational Drug Use, Riding, Rimming, Rough Sex, Self-Lubrication, Serial Killers, Smut, Squirting I guess, Temporary Character Death, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Wall Sex, bc san is a good demon, demon!yeosang, idk san cums a lot, implied date rape drugs, incubus!san, it gets cheesy im sorry, may i present: the sangina™, no actual rape between members, reaper!seonghwa, uninteresting demon lore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-20
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:42:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 12
Words: 114,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22767208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmicwoosan/pseuds/cosmicwoosan
Summary: “I only eat the hearts of evil people.”“If you’re a demon, shouldn’t it be the other way around?“You… have a point. But at least I’m doing the human world some good, don’t you think?”or, a self-ruling demon saves a human from an early death only to get attached, and said demon starts to think that maybe eating the hearts of good people instead of evil people would be better for his sanity than having a soft spot for some clumsy but undeniably attractive mortal.
Relationships: Choi San/Jung Wooyoung, Choi San/Park Seonghwa
Comments: 150
Kudos: 891





	1. ūnus

**Author's Note:**

> welcome to this new fic!! idk i guess i just have a thing for san eating hearts lmao
> 
> a few things:  
> -this fic contains rape/non-con elements. nothing too explicit, but a lot of heavily implied situations involving rape  
> -this fic is pov alternating. dashes (-) signal the same pov but at a different time, and asterisks (*) signal the start of a new pov  
> -i will try to include all appropriate warnings in the beginning notes of each chapter  
> -i bent demon lore a lot just to write this fic so like nothing is accurate lol just ignore the technical things and enjoy the story :)  
> -tags will be updated with each chapter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter contains references to drugging drinks, a brief non-graphic non-con scene, blood, heart eating, attempted murder by strangling, some more heart eating, and emotions

San likes to toy with his victims. It’s part of the fun of being a demon, and since he does whatever the hell he wants without remorse, he’s welcome to all sorts of possibilities.

This time around, he’s a human-proclaimed serial killer. He’s aware that he probably shouldn’t be meddling around too much in the human realm, but it’s just so exhilarating, the thrill of the kill or the continuation of suffering, depending on his victim’s crimes. Sometimes he’ll let them live, live with the guilt of their deeds until they ultimately take their own lives, and other times he’ll rip their hearts out and eat them. Evil hearts are his bread and butter.

It’s disgusting. Most of his sadistic rendezvouses take place at bars and nightclubs, as he finds that’s where the evilest people tend to go, where they prey on their own species in some of the tackiest environments San has ever seen. He’s witnessed too much of this, where the predators think they’re being slick, slipping their victims foreign substances in drinks that muddle the human mind, rendering their prey useless. He’s witnessed too many women leave with grungy men, often against their will as they lean on their abusers for support because their bodies are too slow to keep up. Those foreign substances, which have no effect on San, have been the main perpetrator of these situations besides the people who utilize them, and San, being the demon that he is, has used the drugs against the _true_ demons plenty of times.

He’s sitting at the bar, his red leather dress hugging his thighs in the most uncomfortable ways, when he feels a hand pressing into the small of his back. A man approaches him from behind, taking a seat at the stool beside him. He’s smiling the rotten smile of a villain, a deceitful innocent one that San has seen too many times before. His hair is slicked back, the gel quite visible in the strands of his jet-black hair, his outfit sleek and modern. His watch looks expensive too.

From what San has noticed over the years, it’s always the ones who look put-together. The most deceiving ones. The ones with the evilest intentions. Though the man is smiling, there is malicious intent hidden behind those welcoming eyes. San can see right through the ruse.

“Good evening,” he says, his voice smoother than velvet. It makes San sick.

“Hi,” San replies, the corner of his mouth curling up in a smirk.

“Can I buy you a drink?”

San wants to glower at this man; he’s being direct. Too direct. He wonders if this man is somehow testing him, trying to see if he will fall for such blatantly obvious attack. Well, whatever gets this man alone with him.

Appearing coy, San nods, though his tone speaks his distaste. “Whisky,” he says dismissively, turning back around and gazing back at the bottles on display.

Without watching the man, San waits for his drink. The bartender is farther down helping another customer, and San is sure that his suitor will use that to his advantage. He will wait until the bartender is finished with the other customer, get San his drink, slip him the substance and then use the excuse of, “Sorry it took so long, the bartender was busy helping someone.” Or, the man will get himself some overly convoluted alcoholic concoction for himself that “took a long time to make.” Whatever the case, San’s drink will be laced, but he will not be the victim tonight.

San is never the victim. The victims are those who deliberately drug his drinks or the drinks of others. _His_ victims.

They’ll atone for their sins when they’re blind or dead.

San counts the seconds. Two hundred sixty-one. The man reappears with two glasses, one containing San’s whisky and the other with a drink for himself. San eyes his glass, picking it up slowly, his slender fingers and red stiletto nails curling around it devilishly.

The drink exudes malice.

He blinks, meeting the man’s eyes as they clink their glasses together. Alcohol tastes like nothing to San, as human food and drink do absolutely nothing for him or his taste buds, so he downs the entire drink with no problem, no sign of a burn or aversion. The man watches him, intrigued with one eyebrow raised. “You like hard drinks, I see.”

“Mm.” San sets his glass down gently, already beginning to feel bored with this man. He’s certainly not one for conversation, San notices. He just wants to slip under San’s dress.

This man is silent, but San can feel his eyes burning into him. This man is _evil_ , and San can feel that energy radiating off of him so strongly that just the anticipation is starting to make him feel drunk. Or horny.

Excited to tear into this man’s chest and eat his heart.

“Would you like another one?” the man asks, already wrapping his fingers around San’s empty glass.

“Yes, please. Surprise me this time, but make it _hard._ ” San glares at this man with both hatred and amusement, an expression that this man mistakes for lust instead. It’s ridiculously easy to toy with human emotions, San thinks. Just a few bats of the eyelashes and an intense stare and the men will fall to their knees. It’s too easy to lure them.

San finds it hilariously ironic. How they intend to lure him, but in actuality, it is the other way around. The predator becomes the prey. San knows this happens in nature sometimes; the human world is no exception.

The liquor that the man brings San next looks like a mixture of two different kinds. He's sure it must smell and taste extremely unpleasant, but it’s not like it matters since he can't smell or taste it anyway. The man still has his drink from before, watching with rapt attention as San downs this second drink like it’s nothing, because it is. While the man first seemed intrigued, now, his expression reads something much different. Something along the lines of disgust.

He appears disgusted, but he is afraid. San can hear his heart pulsing, speeding up as soon as San finishes his second drink. This man is disgusted because he is intimidated. He is repulsed by the fact that he fears a woman.

“Thank you, dear,” San says, pushing his glass away.

“Wow, you must really like the hard stuff, huh?” the man asks, his voice sounding the way he looks.

“Mixed drinks don’t cut it,” San says with a shrug. “I don’t feel anything from them.”

He really doesn’t.

“Well, hopefully these drinks help you feel something.”

Disgusting. If San could, he’d throw up on this man’s expensive suit.

The man eventually leaves him alone, but San knows that’s not how it goes. San will appear to be disoriented, pretend to be affected by the toxins, stumble out of the bar, and be “rescued” by his suitor. Where his suitor takes him, that’s the surprise. In the past, San has been taken to alleyways, nearby hotels, even into unsuspecting taxis that take them to his victim’s home. All the while, San pretends to be drunk, drugged, and unaware.

He is never any of those things.

San has been to this bar plenty of times, each time with a new disguise and new ways to deceive. This time, a red leather dress accentuates the curves of his succubus form, his brown hair cut in a perfect bob, lips cherry red and skin nearly porcelain white. He’s taken the form of all walks of life, men and women alike, but his true form, the one known as San, is what he walks the streets in. A healthy young man with midnight black hair, often accompanied by some highlight of color. Nowadays, it’s a turquoise blue.

San counts the seconds. Five hundred. All the while, he feigns progressive intoxication, swaying in his seat, drooping his eyes, occasionally tilting his head back. When he stands, he stumbles, one final grin on his face before he raises his head and wobbles out of the bar.

San counts the seconds. One hundred six. The evil is following him. The footsteps are ringing in his ears. The pounding of this man’s heart from the excitement of the ambush. If San had a beating heart, he would feel the same way. All he can hear are the sounds of this evil man's eager heart and his heels clacking along the pavement.

San counts the seconds. Thirty. The man grabs onto his wrist and spins him around without rein. “Miss,” he says, “you shouldn’t have drunk all of that hard stuff. Let me walk you home, yeah?”

Silently, San nods and lets the man lead him. He never once says an address. There is no home.

Instead, the man drags him to a nearby motel. Simple enough, a scene that San has experienced plenty of times. He leans on the man’s shoulder, his attacker ordering a room for the two of them. The old man running the front desk doesn’t even think twice about seeing a disoriented woman practically clinging to a wealthy man’s arm and hands him a key to a room. San follows. Counts the seconds.

Fifty. The man tugs San inside. “You seem like you need to sleep it off, darling,” he says. “Just have a little rest on the bed. I’ll make sure to watch you.”

It takes San a lot not to smile. Without a word, he collapses onto the bed on his back, his arms limp above his head. Blinking slowly, he continues his act, appearing out of his mind as the man climbs on top of him. He raises his hands to San’s wrists, gripping them roughly. “Sweetheart, you look like you could use some relief.”

San counts the seconds. Fifteen. The man shoves one hand in between San’s thighs.

Five. The man pushes San’s panties aside and rubs two fingers along his slit.

One.

San reels his head back and slams it into the man’s with an unbelievable force, knocking the man backwards onto his ass while San lifts himself up, power flooding his body as he towers over his panicked attacker. The man is panting, a bloody bruise beginning to form on his forehead, and San gently rests his stiletto heel on the man’s abdomen before digging it into his flesh. Silencing the room, San inhales the man’s screams, fueling his rage, and twists his heel further into the man’s stomach. A small amount of blood from the puncture wound has begun to show through the man’s shirt as he continues to roar in pain.

San chuckles as he leans down, his cherry red pointed nails extending into curved, blackened claws. He’s surprised to see that the man is trying to ward him off by grabbing onto his calf and scratching with his blunt nails, but San just continues to laugh as he slices into those foul hands with his own, creating ten perfect gashes that spray blood onto the floor beneath them.

“Pretty little rich boy, let me hear you scream louder,” San hisses, feeling his heel hit something solid, realizing it’s the floor. He’s managed to penetrate the man’s body with his heel, delightfully surprised that the man is still alive.

It’s a good thing he is. Beating hearts taste the best because the blood is still fresh.

“It’s a shame we had to end this so soon,” San whispers, crouching down until his arms can comfortably reach the man’s chest. The sinner's arms have stopped struggling and now lay useless by his sides, the life beginning to drain from his eyes. His heart flutters weakly, a soft cry, a plea to live. “I would have loved to play with you more, but you annoyed the fuck out of me.”

When San releases the man from his heel, blood gushes from the wound on his stomach, and San plunges his claws into his chest. Feeling the organ in the palm of his hand, he rips it out, arteries and veins and all, and watches as the man draws his last dying breath before biting into it, blood bursting from the fragile tissue. Both of San’s hands are soaked in the blood of a villain, this evil man’s heart beating one last time in the palm of his right, and he laughs, his mouth stuffed with blood and human organ. He swallows, reveling in the taste of malevolence and slurping up the blood that drips from his mouth.

“My, my,” San sighs to himself, taking another bite of the now lifeless heart. “You certainly are delicious, my dear. The life of the wealthy must certainly be stressful. You looked like you could use some relief.”

The demon cackles, devouring the rest of the man’s heart, and walks of the motel room. When he reaches the lobby, he hears the old man gasp and begin to scream, but San silences him quickly, sending him to sleep, wiping his memory, and with a flash, the security cameras burst, and the demon disappears into the night.

\---

News stories are always amusing to San. With the ability to bend the human world in his favor, his crimes are always perfect, not a trace left in sight. Being inhuman, not a single piece of DNA is left. Upon discovering the man’s body, the old man at the counter couldn’t remember a thing, and the security cameras held no footage from the night before. The police deem it another attack from the notorious “Heart-Ripping Killer,” as San has been known as to humans lately. Always the perfect crime. Destroyed or no evidence. Lost memories that will never return.

San always gets what he wants without any hardships. He watches the news while sitting at a tiny table at his favorite café while sipping coffee that he can’t taste. It’s just a way for him to blend in a bit, interact with humans in his true form, where he can feel the slightest bit “normal” and not like he’s a heart-eating demon who preys on predators.

Not that he minds that whole thing, though. He loves it.

San gets by in the human world through mind manipulation, practically hypnotizing humans to do what he wants. Not that he does it all the time, but he does it when he has to. For example, a landlord being charmed into letting him live in a lavish condominium. A wealthy real-estate agent being coerced into sending money to him whenever he needs. Not having to pay for shit at all while salespeople are under his spell. Humans bend to his will, and, in turn, he rids the world of the evil ones.

The thing is, living as a demon in the human world is incredibly lonely.

Demons, for the most part, keep to themselves, each doing their own thing. They’re everywhere around the world, some hide, some don’t. San is definitely one who doesn’t. Most demons play it safe, remaining as simple shadows that torment people in their own homes and feed off of fear. San, a typically rare breed, feeds off of human life energy in all forms. Because of that, he puts himself out into the human world and lives among them. San is sure there are other demons around him, unknown in numbers, but he’s never been approached by one, nor has he ever found one for himself. It’s fine though. San has grown used to such a secluded life.

He is used to the euphoria of tormenting the true villains of the world, humans themselves, who are more evil than demons could ever be. This is what San exists for. To absolve the world from villains. He has no real need for the pleasures of the human world, like romance or material possessions that show some sort of status. No, on the surface, San is an ordinary human who happens to live well, just not extravagantly. Beneath the surface, behind the face that he wears so well, is the true demon he is, one that seduces predators and eats their hearts.

There are several ways San goes about his feasts. As an incubus, he feeds off of sexual energy as well as the physical blood and organs of humans. Despite his main food source being sex, he prefers the hearts, those beating, bloody organs that fuel the human body, the bearer of life and humans' truest intentions. San loves listening to them beat. Those that belong to evil people have a different rhythm, a different pattern of sorts, and those ones are the most delicious.

He doesn't know how long he's existed for, but his victims have reached thousands. Before being declared a serial killer, San always disposed of the bodies and every single trace, the blood, the remnants. But when humans started to catch onto the mysterious disappearances, especially those of the wealthy, he figured that maybe, it was time for a change.

San began to leave the bodies with their chests ripped open, sometimes with the rest of their organs on display. Sometimes he'd leave little notes. The majority of his victims have been male, which the police have caught onto, but with the occasional female victim, the police are stumped as to whether the perpetrator is male or female. San just laughs at their struggles, because technically, he can be both. Not that they will ever figure it out.

Other times, if San wants his male victims to continue to suffer, he will bite off their prides and gouge their eyes out. Sometimes cut off their tongues so they will never speak again. Other times, he will amputate their hands so that they will never lay them on unsuspecting innocents. Or, if he's feeling it, he will do all of the above. More times than not, however, he will eat their hearts, because that is his truest fuel, what he _really_ feeds on. If he does have sex, it's to kill.

The news stories are always so amusing. Only the somebodys get their screen time. There have been times where San has feasted upon the homeless, the impoverished, and not a single word was spoken of them. His most recent victim, whose name he didn't bother to learn, was a wealthy businessman, father to two with a wife at home. In the news report, she's bawling, telling the story of how her husband was one of the greatest men one could ever meet, yet doesn't seem to question why his body had been found in a dingy motel room.

It makes San's nose twitch with unease. That poor woman, brainwashed into believing that her husband had been a saint. San has had similar victims, so it's nothing new to see, but it's always unsettling, how cunning humans can be.

Well, San is no exception to that. But he feels like at least he's doing the human world some justice. If no human will punish the abominations of their own kind, then San will. He feels no remorse for doing so.

Being a demon, San doesn't feel much at all.

While his lack of a heart aches for this woman, it's not like he wants to do anything else about it. He doesn't want to console this woman. Not when her husband was a dirty liar, cheater, and sleaze. Not when he deserved what he got. She's better off without him, and once this news report ends, San will continue on with his existence, forget this woman's face, and ultimately add this man to his list of victims and never speak of him again.

As the news report drones on, San can hear the heartbeats of the customers pick up. Even those who aren't watching the television, the words spoken by the reporter and the man's wife have their hearts trembling. It gives San an odd sense of satisfaction, knowing that his stunt makes people so unsettled. He always hopes that his deeds will deter future villains from carrying out their crimes, but alas, it's never like that.

Evil people will always be evil. Fear cannot be instilled in them. So, San will carry on.

"We want to assure everyone that this 'Heart-Ripping Killer' is not a threat to the general population. If anyone is worried about an attack, be sure to avoid being alone at night, and if you absolutely must, carry a weapon with you at all times."

San supposes that the first statement is true. He really isn't a threat to the general population as long as they keep their paws to themselves. The latter part, however, makes San chuckle a little. No human weapon could ever hurt him, not even those silly little crosses that humans think ward off demons.

The demons that are born into the world directly from Hell are the ones affected by the notion of God. San is not one of those.

A sudden crash snaps San out of his daze. He turns to his left, where he sees an employee face flat on the ground with a bus bin of dishes fallen right in front of him. A few snickers ring through the café, entertained by this unfortunate employee.

"Yah! If any of those dishes broke, they're coming out of your paycheck!" shouts a voice from the back.

"I'm sorry!" The employee scrambles to stand up, taking the dish bin with him and scurrying to the back of the café where more incoherent words and a few profanities can be heard.

San smiles sympathetically, sighing to himself. Humans love to laugh at the little things, the tiniest bouts of misery. For him, it seems to be the complete opposite, where he feels bad for the unfortunate innocents but laughs at the suffering of the evil ones.

Well, San may be a heart-eating demon, but he has _some_ sympathy.

He asks the barista at the counter if they have a pen and a slip of paper, which they surprisingly have, and takes the items back to his table. Retrieving his wallet, he pulls out a hundred thousand won, wraps it in the piece of paper, and writes out 'for your troubles and/or if you have to pay for those dishes' with a smiley face at the end.

San occasionally glances at the front counter in sight of the clumsy employee and waits, sipping the rest of his coffee that's as black as his soul. Growing bored of not seeing the poor guy, he stands up and flags down the head barista, giving his cup back and looking her right in the eyes. She gazes into his, blinking a few times before ultimately falling into his persuasion. "Here," San says, handing her the money and note, "that boy who dropped the dishes earlier. Give this to him, will you?" She nods slowly, dazed, and takes his cup, turning back around and disappearing into the back.

San leaves the café without looking back, hoping that the unlucky busboy enjoys his little present.

***

Despite his frequent bad luck, Wooyoung didn't break any of the dishes he'd dropped. The bin had cushioned the blow to the dishes, but nothing helped Wooyoung when he landed square on his chin. The boss scolded him for being so clumsy, and he's honestly grateful that his boss is a family friend; otherwise, he would've lost this job a long time ago. Even though he's usually stuck in the back doing dishes and stock and everything besides making drinks, it pays enough to get him by, as shit as the work itself may be. Sometimes, Yeoju will show him how to make drinks after hours or if the boss isn't around, and somehow, he's better at being a barista than being a busboy, yet the boss won't let him try it out.

He can't wrap his head around it. He trips over his own two feet bringing a bin of dishes to the back, yet he can actually make a mean latte without spilling anything or burning himself. Perhaps the world is trying to tell him that being a barista is his calling, but the boss just won't allow it. So, he keeps to himself and does dishes in the back.

He'd been collecting dishes when he heard the news report. This so-called "Heart-Ripping Killer" has everyone on edge lately, including Wooyoung. He has no choice but to walk home alone at night, since his apartment is literally down the road and why the fuck would he bother paying for a taxi or bus? Even if it's just a few minutes, there are a few alleyways where he could be attacked. While Wooyoung usually isn't one to worry about this sort of thing, the most recent attack had been at a motel just a few miles away. The killer must be in the area.

From what Wooyoung has gathered, the majority of this killer's victims have been male, but that's about all that's currently known to the public, meaning he fits the bill perfectly. For all he knows, this killer could lash out and murder him from one of the alleyways when he walks home at night. Just the thought of it all, having his heart ripped out, makes every single strand of hair on his body stand on end. He can't imagine the pain that these people had to endure. What kind of sick, twisted person tears out other people's hearts?

Not only that, but there have been other cases, ones where victims have their bodies mutilated in unspeakable ways, that may or may not be linked to the same killer. The reports on those victims are a lot more vague and scarce, and none of them report to have memories of their attacker. It makes Wooyoung's gut turn, thinking about either possibility, getting his heart ripped out or his eyes gouged out and tongue sliced off, and having no way of remembering who did it to him.

Apparently, there's been one public case where the victim had his dick cut off, and Wooyoung doesn't even want to begin to think about that.

Perhaps that's why he tripped, the news report must have distracted him. Similar things have happened to him before where he's actually broken dishes, spilled coffee, and dropped several boxes of stock, but he's never tripped out of nowhere. It must have been an amusing sight to the customers, as he'd heard the majority of them laugh at his misfortune, but he shrugs it off, more focused on the pain on his chin.

After receiving a handful of harsh words from the boss, he silently washes the dishes while his jaw hurts, when he feels a tap on his shoulder.

"Wooyoung-ah," Yeoju says, holding something out to him that looks to be a piece of paper with some writing on it. "A customer wanted me to give this to you."

He pulls his gloves off and takes the note, feeling that it's much thicker than it initially looked, and _holy shit_ , it's a hundred thousand won. Wrapped around it is the note that reads, in elegant handwriting, 'for your troubles and/or if you have to pay for those dishes.' His eyes nearly bug out of his head as he stares at Yeoju is shock. "Who gave this to you?"

Yeoju shrugs, her facial expression much flatter than usual. It's as if she's not surprised at all that a stranger dropped a hundred thousand won on him, and he doesn't even get tips as a busboy. "A customer."

"Was it a boy or girl? What did they look like?"

The head barista shrugs again. "I don't know." She blinks lazily and walks off, ignoring Wooyoung's further questions.

Weird, Wooyoung thinks. He's never seen Yeoju act like this before, but maybe she's just _that_ stunned that a customer left this much money for a simple busboy. He reads the note over and over again, somehow entranced by how dignified this handwriting is. Luckily he hadn't broken any dishes, meaning this money is going straight into his wallet.

He keeps the note too, but can't stop thinking about how strange Yeoju had been when he asked the simple questions about this customer. She didn't know if they were a boy or girl? What they looked like? How peculiar.

Well, Wooyoung doesn't put _that_ much thought into it. All he can focus on is how he's a hundred thousand won richer.

Towards the end of his shift, he's mopping the floor when his two roommates burst through the front door, the bell chiming above them. "Wooyoung-ah!" Mingi bellows, his deep voice ridiculously loud. "My dude! How was your shift?"

Wooyoung is glad that the boss left and there are no remaining customers; otherwise, he'd probably be fired on the spot. Yunho, who is more of the voice of reason, chuckles and throws his arm around Mingi. "Keep it down, you dickhead."

"You guys are lucky nobody else is here but me and Yeoju," Wooyoung says, rolling his eyes.

"Ah, Yunho! Mingi!" Yeoju bounds over to the counter. "You're lucky I like you guys. I normally wouldn't make drinks for anyone this late, but I'll make an exception. Want anything?"

"Nah, we're just here to pick Wooyoung up," Yunho says. Yeoju tilts her head questioningly at him, as does Wooyoung.

"Why would you guys pick me up? We literally live down the road," he points out.

Yunho and Mingi's faces suddenly fall solemn. "We just thought it would be safer walking as a group. Y'know, 'cause of that psycho killer running around," Yunho says.

Yeoju sighs. "You guys, man. I seriously doubt you have anything to worry about. This killer isn't going to attack you without reason."

"What are you talking about? Have you been hearing these news reports? All of the victims have been _male._ _You_ have nothing to worry about," Mingi says.

"Sure, but you guys are just a bunch of college idiots who don't do anything besides work and go to school. This killer's victims seem a lot more... important, I guess. No offense."

"I mean, the most recent victim was a married rich dude, sure," Wooyoung says. "But hasn't there been a college student victim in the past?"

Yeoju scoffs and rolls her eyes. "Yeah, there was. Farther away, but according to a lot of the girls on campus, the guy was a massive creep. It makes me wonder if this killer's victims are all like that. Rich married guys can still be creeps, you know."

"How would the killer know these things about his victims though?" Mingi asks.

"Fuck if I know. I'm just a barista," Yeoju retorts jokingly. "I'm not saying that's the truth, I'm saying it's a possibility. You guys aren't creeps from what I know. I trust Wooyoungie here, so if he's cool with you two, I am too."

"Yeah, so we're not creeps, but that doesn't mean we can't be victims," Yunho says, wincing. "Serial killers usually have patterns, right? Like, they target certain demographics? How many people has this person killed anyway?"

The four of them exchange unknowing glances. No one can truly know how many people this person has killed; all they know are the cases that have been made public. For all they know, this person could have killed plenty more than what's known. Yeoju shrugs. "Don't know. All that's known is the victims are usually male, and the age range is pretty broad. I saw a story about a seventeen-year-old and a sixty-something-year-old victim before."

Wooyoung cringes at the thought. "Well, we are all within that age range," he mentions.

"I still don't think you guys are at risk," Yeoju says. "But if you want to start traveling as a threesome from now on, I won't stop you. Just don't come in screaming like that again, okay, Mingi-yah?"

Mingi bows his head in shame. "Yes, your majesty."

"Tch, maybe it'll be better if this killer does rip your hearts out," Yeoju deadpans, retreating back to the rear of the café.

Wooyoung sighs, resting his aching chin on the hilt of the mop and tossing his keys to Yunho. "Lock the door, would you? I'm in pain."

Yunho smirks and raises an eyebrow at him, but follows his request anyway. "What's up with you? You've got a bit of a bruise on your chin," Mingi says, pointing.

"Yeah, tripped over my own two feet and dropped a bin full of dishes," Wooyoung explains with a dry laugh. "None of them broke, somehow. I was surprised, considering I'm probably the unluckiest dude in the area."

"Can't argue with that one," Yunho says, underhanding the keys back to Wooyoung.

"So I landed right on my chin. Hurts to talk a little. _But_ , I did get something out of it." Yunho and Mingi look to each other curiously, and that's when Wooyoung pulls out the wad of cash from before. His roommates' eyes bulge at the sight. "A customer left some pity money for me."

"That's a whole lot of _pity money_ ," Mingi says, rushing over to Wooyoung's side. He plucks the money right out of Wooyoung's hand, along with the note, which he reads with furrowed brows. "Huh. This person has really nice handwriting. It's like... script."

Yunho appears next to Mingi and reads the note as well. "They must really be rich if they left you a tip this big," he says. "What did they look like?"

Wooyoung glances over his shoulder at the back of the café, leaning into his roommates when he sees Yeoju isn't there. "I don't know. Apparently the person gave the money to Yeoju to give to me, and when I asked her what they looked like, she said 'I don't know.'"

"What do you mean she doesn't know?" Yunho asks.

"I don't know! She seemed like, really out of it when she handed me the money. She couldn't even tell me whether the customer was a guy or girl."

"Did they hide their face or something?" Mingi gasps suddenly. "What if it was the killer?"

Yunho yelps, slapping Mingi's arm. "Don't joke like that!" he scolds, frowning.

Wooyoung is grateful that Yunho is the voice of reason in the group, but Mingi has a point. What if it _was_ the killer? If Yeoju couldn't tell what the person looked like, maybe they hid, or maybe she was scared to the point where she couldn't remember. She'd seemed fine a little after the fact, though. Maybe Wooyoung can try asking her again later.

"Well, whatever the case, it's my money now," Wooyoung says, snatching the money back from Mingi's mischievous fingers. "We should go out one of these days. Like, for dinner or something. Somewhere nice."

"And hopefully not get our hearts ripped out of our chests."

Yunho slaps Mingi upside the head once more.

\---

**[Yeoju]**

_what are u talkin abt?_

**[Wooyoung]**

_u kno, the customer from earlier who left me that huge tip_

**[Yeoju]**

_i literally dont know what ur talking about??_

_u dont get tips lol_

**[Wooyoung]**

_i know that but u came to me while i was doing dishes and said a customer wanted to give this to me_

_and it was a hundred thousand won_

_so_

**[Yeoju]**

_lol stop fucking with me_

_that didnt happen u idiot_

_r u on meds or smth lol_

**[Wooyoung]**

_????_

_u literally_

_gave me the money_

_n when i asked u what they looked like u said u didn't know_

_like what_

**[Yeoju]**

_maybe i didnt know what they looked like cuz it didnt happen lmao_

_jung wooyoung u concern me sometimes_

_goodnight u dunce <3_

Well, so much for that.

Befuddled, Wooyoung shuts his phone off for the night, setting it down beside his bed. Staring up at his ceiling, he attempts to quell the weird pain in his chest, some strange anticipation he'd built up while walking home with Yunho and Mingi.

He'd been on edge for the entire seven minute walk, trailing behind his two taller roommates in case he needed human shields. Yunho and Mingi didn't seem to mind the walk one bit as they kept pushing at each other, belting out ballads from dramas and dancing around on the pavement. Maybe they'd been doing such silly things to ward the killer off or something; Wooyoung knows he'd sure be deterred from killing someone if he saw them doing _that._

Or he'd be even more tempted to kill them. Wooyoung feels that way a lot about his roommates sometimes.

The money is sitting in his wallet, and apparently Yeoju has no recollection of that money existing. Wooyoung doesn't know if she's pulling some sort of prank on him; maybe this is all just one big joke and the money is counterfeit. Whatever the case, it isn't funny, and Mingi's comment from earlier isn't helping the unsettling feeling in Wooyoung's chest.

_What if it was the killer?_

There's no way, Wooyoung thinks. The killer wouldn't do something so stupid as to put themselves out there so blatantly. A prank, that has to be it. A way to freak the clumsy busboy out. Yeoju is in on it and is pretending to not remember giving him the money so it would scare the life out of him.

He'll have the money checked when he can. Or, he'll just use it as a 'fuck you' to Yeoju. Either way, fuck Yeoju.

And fuck that killer for making him so nervous. He hasn't done anything except break a couple of dishes. If the killer murders him, he'll become a ghost and haunt them. Yeah, because that's a thing, right? Wooyoung would totally do that. Maybe, as an invisible dead force, he'll rip the killer's heart out too.

He just hopes he doesn't have to do that.

He just doesn't want to die.

***

San knows he shouldn't kill often, and if he does, he should do it discretely. There are plenty of ways to kill, satiate his hunger, and make it not so obvious that it was him.

Sometimes, he uses his ability to invade dreams and sucks the life out of his victims from the inside out, all while gaining the sexual energy his incubus self feeds so well off of. The victims die peacefully in their sleep, their deaths ruled as 'natural causes,' and nobody suspects a thing.

San does it sparingly, and only if he _really_ needs to feed. He rarely ever has sex for pleasure; in fact, he's pretty sure he's never had sex for pleasure. He's not even sure if he can have sex without draining life force. Not that he really cares about it anyway. Sex is such a trivial thing to him, and he's certain that there's no way a human could ever pleasure him if he's not eating their hearts. Having sex _and_ eating their hearts is probably the most pleasurable double whammy San could ever pull, but surprisingly, he hasn't gotten around to doing that yet.

Having sex in the physical world is something that San hasn't done. It's strange, he thinks; he _is_ an incubus after all. Maybe he's just not horny enough for it, or maybe his love for evil hearts overpowers his sex drive. Whatever the case, it doesn't matter all that much. San can get by with eating hearts and sucking the souls out of people through sex in dreams.

He constantly wonders if there's something wrong with him, though. He feels like he should be a bit more promiscuous as a literal sex demon, but sex is just not that important to him. He ignores the feeling for the most part, but it's moments like these, where he's laying down on a rooftop of a random building, gazing out at the night sky and wondering just how the hell he ended up here. His moments of brooding are the only times where he feels something, a sense of being _lost_ somehow. Wanderlust, perhaps. It's the only time where San feels the slightest bit human.

He wonders if humans feel lost too sometimes. He's sure they do, but he wonders if it's in the same way as him.

Not that he could ever begin to explain his emotions. When he thinks about it, there's a lot he can't explain, but it's not like he has anybody to explain things to.

He can't even recall how many years he's been on Earth. The seconds all seem to blend together into one huge mess of time that flies by way too quickly for San's mind to keep track of. He goes about his days and nights, does what he needs to do to survive, and exists. He doesn't call it living because he is not alive. He's not even sure if his body contains the same organs that a human's does. He sure knows he doesn't have a beating heart or breathing lungs, as he feels neither of those things.

A lot of things are unknown in the world. In San's world, there are even _more_ unknown things.

There are a lot of things San can't remember. Blurry memories of a previous existence, _maybe_ , where he could have had a beating heart and functioning lungs. Real emotions and the ability to cry. Everyday human senses, being able to taste and feeling full. With his existence nowadays, San feels none of those things, but maybe he once did.

_He can't remember._

Perhaps that is the meaning of his existence, to try and figure this shit out, but that's not his main priority. His main priority is getting by, eating hearts, and ridding the human world of evil.

The life of a demon is incredibly lonely like that.

Sometimes, he thinks he should try and make human friends. Gain social skills, interact with people. He does if he has to, but most of the time it's when he's using his persuasion or sweet talking his victims before he kills them. He's never made a _friend_ , nor does he know what having one feels like.

Well, it's whatever. San is a demon in a world full of humans. He doesn't _need_ human interaction.

"I can feel that, you know."

Jolting up from his lax position, San turns around to see a man, no, _something_ standing underneath the single flickering lamp that's lighting up the roof of the building. "Your thoughts. It is a lonely life, I know."

Cautiously, San stands up, his nails already beginning to throb. "What are you?"

"Relax," the mysterious stranger says, stepping forward into the light. "I am just like you."

If San could breathe, he'd be heaving. He's tense, ready to attack if he has to, but there's a strange sense of satisfaction as well. Someone is talking to him. Or some _thing_.

"What are you talking about?" San asks.

"You must not talk to a lot of people, hm?" The figure steps forward, his face becoming more and more visible as he approaches. "You are not used to this. I can tell."

"Used to what?" San nearly snarls, his hands positioned behind his hips.

"Ease your worries, demon," the stranger says smoothly. He's standing just a few centimeters away.

"You... what are you?"

The man chuckles. "I go by the name of Seonghwa," he, _Seonghwa_ , says. "You are what the humans have been calling the 'Heart-Ripping Killer,' are you not?"

This is no man, San finally realizes. This _thing_ , whatever it is, knows who he is. "Do not be alarmed," Seonghwa adds quickly. "Like I said, I am just like you. I am not here to attack or punish you by any means."

"Then what are you here for?" San asks, his claws itching to emerge.

Seonghwa stands poised with his hands behind his back. "I am simply here to offer you some company. I have been searching for this killer for quite some time. Allow me to say, it is a pleasure to meet you." He extends his hand, a completely normal-looking hand, for San to shake.

"I am not shaking your hand," San says.

Nodding, Seonghwa takes his hand back. "Believe me, demon, I do not hold much power over you. I am simply a demon of fate, an angel of death, if you will."

San raises an eyebrow. "A what?"

Seonghwa chuckles. "You could say I am a demon as well. What humans call a 'reaper.' I guide souls to the afterlife."

San's jaw nearly drops. This person, thing, _Seonghwa_ , claiming to be a reaper. San has never interacted with someone, a _demon_ , like this before. No one has ever known his true identity. "There has been a drastic increase in souls to reap in this country, and for that, I thank you," Seonghwa says with a small bow.

"You're... thanking me for killing people?" San questions, his suspicion continuing to grow.

Seonghwa nods. "I am similar to you in that the more I do what I am meant to do, the more energy I receive. Whereas you feed off of the living, I feed off of their souls after they die."

"So... you eat people's souls?"

"The process is much more complicated than that. When I say I guide souls to the afterlife, I do that if I deem the souls worthy. If not, the soul goes directly to me, and that is what I feed off of. However, if I guide a soul, it also serves as a source of energy. I am what humans call me. A reaper. One who collects souls and does what they see fit with them. It is how I survive."

San can feel his shoulders relax, though his fingers continue to itch. "You have been around the world, have you not? Surely if your killings were centered in this country there would be plenty more," Seonghwa says.

"Yeah," San answers. "I've been around."

Seonghwa hums in acknowledgement. "I have not had the privilege of meeting a demon like you, one who kills without mercy or remorse. I must say, you are doing quite a good job."

"Didn't think demons have mercy or remorse," San mutters.

"Well, surprisingly, I have not come across many demons in general. At least, not ones who present themselves so publicly. After following these stories for quite some time, I reached the conclusion that it had to be the work of a demon."

"Quite the conclusion to reach."

Seonghwa shrugs. "Being somewhat of a demon myself, you could say I have a knack for these sort of things. It just so happened that I was in the same area at the same time as you, so after this most recent case, I decided to follow what I could feel."

"And what could you feel?" San asks curiously.

"The lack of a soul," Seonghwa answers casually. "Humans have souls. Demons do not. It is extremely rare that a demon walks among the human race, so seeing you and your absence of a soul helped me reach that conclusion and ultimately find you."

"Have you really been following me? How long for?"

"Since the last person you killed. I collected his soul," Seonghwa says. "Physically, I do not travel far, but I can reap souls wherever they are. Seeing as this is the first time I have met you, this must be the first time you have killed in this area."

"I don't know. Could be. Like I said, I get around, and I don't keep track of the time or the places I go."

Seonghwa nods thoughtfully, beginning to pace in a circle around San with slow, careful steps. He eyes San up and down as if to observe him. "It did not take me long to find you. Like I said, I detected a lack of a soul as soon as I saw you, so I knew you had to be a demon. And, from what I could gather, the results of all these cases, these perfect crimes, could only be carried out by one who can shape the human world to their liking."

San's fingers stop itching.

"I am not here to warn you of anything, threaten you, or hurt you in any way," Seonghwa says. "I just wanted to find the one responsible for all these recent deaths. And now that I have found you, I have a proposition to make."

San's lip curls with distrust, his claws beginning to itch again. The demon life is lonely, yes, but he never asked for this, never wanted someone to find him like this. He's grown so used to the solitude. He trusts no one, not even one of his kind. Even so, he is curious. "What is it?"

"As I said before, I am a reaper. When humans die, I collect their souls. My proposition is this... allow me to be a partner of sorts. When you kill, I will be there to take their souls and assist you with the, erm, clean up."

"Clean up?"

"I am aware that you leave the bodies, which is why you have been named a serial killer," Seonghwa says, "but I too have the power of persuasion. If there are any loose ends that need to be tied, I will be there to do so. As a helper, a partner."

"I work fine alone," San says. "There are never any loose ends. My kills are always perfect."

Seonghwa closes his eyes and nods patiently, halting in his tracks. "I believe you. After all, I have seen your work. You are in no way obligated to accept my proposition, and believe me, you and I will be just fine separately. This is simply an idea of mine. And... I do not mean any offense, but after all this time of being alone, you seem like you could use some form of social interaction."

San sucks in his bottom lip, taking Seonghwa's words into consideration. The reaper doesn't _seem_ to have malicious intent, nor does San sense any immediate danger from being close to him. It seems to be as Seonghwa said; the reaper does not hold much power over him. "I can understand why you are so wary," Seonghwa says. "You are accustomed to a life of solitude. Like you said, you work alone. However, it is as I said before. I do not hold power over you. After all, you are not human, and you are not alive. What I do cannot affect you in the slightest. I am no threat."

San glances down, his shoulders unwinding once again as he wills his fingers to stop. "How do I know you won't fuck me over somehow?" he asks.

Seonghwa chuckles and bows his head slightly. "I have no reason to. I do not interact with humans. In fact, I am invisible to them unless I decide to show myself, which I have never done. I am simply here to do what I need to do, just like you. If I am being honest, the life of a reaper is quite lonely too, so I can sympathize with you in that aspect."

"So is the life of being a demon," San says humorlessly.

"Indeed."

The two stand there, on a roof of a random, possibly abandoned building with just the single incandescent light hanging above them, an eerie silence being shared between them. It's not tense or anything like that; at least, San doesn't think so.

It feels... weird. San doesn't know if he likes it or not.

"So," Seonghwa says after what feels like an eternity of silence, "will you accept my proposition?"

Taking an unnecessary deep breath, San nods. "If you fuck me over, I swear I will find some way to dispose of you, since I'm sure you can't die."

"You are correct," Seonghwa responds, sounding amused. "But it is as I said. I have no reason to... betray you."

After several more seconds of silence, San reaches his own hand out. "It's a deal."

Seonghwa grasps his hand firmly, shaking it, and San realizes it feels quite like nothing. It's like he's holding some sort of inanimate object, solid, but nothing else. No warmth, not even cold. Just a hand that holds no substance. San wonders if that's what Seonghwa feels too.

"Forgive me, demon. I still do not know what you are called."

"San," the incubus speaks. "I go by San."

"San... an interesting title. Care to tell me why that is what you are called?"

San tells Seonghwa the story with their legs dangling off the edge of the roof, where the summer breeze tussles their hair but nothing else. He retells his memories, the ones he has, where he came into existence on a mountain. The trek to civilization had been easy, as the cold wind and snow felt like nothing. He'd been starving, craving something that wasn't aware of at the time, until he finally reached a small village where there were living, breathing creatures. He could hear their heartbeats, and they'd lured him in.

His first kill, his first meal, had been messy. After all, he was a fresh demon, newly born, driven by agonizing hunger with no real knowledge of what he was. He'd eaten the heart of an innocent, and while it extinguished his hunger, it left a nasty taste in his mouth.

Over time, he learned more and more about himself, what he was able to do, and when he ate the heart of a villain, a man who had killed once before, he finally understood. This was his destiny, his way to survive.

He learned how to distinguish the heartbeats, the good versus the evil. As his existence continued, his instincts grew stronger, as did his awareness. He became more familiar with himself, his powers and abilities, and after wandering the Earth for who knows how long, he finally discovered what he was. A demon, a lifeless creature with an unbeating heart, who prays on humans and their life energy. An incubus, as a more specific classification.

Seonghwa listens to San's story intently, nodding occasionally and making small noises of acknowledgement. Towards the end of San's tale, the demon sighs and says, "I don't know how I came to exist. It's like I just... appeared on that mountain. It wasn't like I woke up or anything. I just popped into existence. Like, I can't remember anything before the mountain."

"It is a very similar situation to mine," Seonghwa says, his eyes shutting calmly as the breeze whisks his jet-black hair back. "I have walked this Earth for a very long time, but unlike you, I cannot even remember how I came to exist or where I did. It seems as if demons just start existing with nothing else to go off of."

"But I swear, sometimes it feels like I was something before," San murmurs. "Because I live among humans now, I know the human world inside and out. I do a lot of human things to blend in. I eat and drink things that humans do, and it tastes like nothing to me. Nothing affects me. I can't... I can't even feel hot or cold. I don't feel pain. It's just a whole lot of nothing."

"It is the same for me, but you are visible to the world, are you not? Can you shroud yourself from humans?" Seonghwa asks.

San shakes his head. "No, but I can take on the appearance of anybody. Male, female, you name it. It's how I lure people in."

"So this is your true form?"

"Yup. This is me." San gestures at himself. "I walk around like this. If I were to introduce myself to anybody, I would say my name is San. More often than not, though, I'm somebody else since it's how I, y'know, eat."

"I see." Seonghwa glances up at the starless sky, and San notices that his chest is much like his own, motionless. He can't hear a heartbeat. Seonghwa is truly like him.

"But as I was saying," San continues, "I don't feel the same things humans do, but it's like... I know how they're _supposed_ to feel. Sort of."

"I do not think I understand what you mean."

"Like, humans get burned when they touch something hot, you know that, right?" Seonghwa nods. "I don't feel that, obviously, and I can't really describe what it feels like either. But there's just something _there._ I can't feel it, but—" San groans, his words escaping him. "I feel like I've known it before. I just don't now."

Seonghwa turns to look at him. "That is quite interesting. I wish I could tell you why that is. I am the same in that I do not feel pain. But from what you are describing, it sounds like you are _familiar_ with pain somehow, am I correct?"

"I don't know." San pulls his knees up under his chin and hugs them close. "I don't know, I don't remember. I just... _don't know._ "

"It sounds like you are quite frustrated by this," Seonghwa observes.

"You could say that, yeah. It's really the only thing that bothers me," San admits. "Otherwise, I don't feel much of anything."

"I see."

San shrugs. "I don't think about it a lot, since I'm usually busy doing other shit, but it's just one of those nights, I guess. I'm full from the last kill, so I don't really have anything to do."

"Well, I hope my company has offered you some relief."

San can feel the tug of his lip, tempted to smile. "Honestly, yeah. It kinda did. I'm sorry for being so... y'know."

"I understand, San," Seonghwa says earnestly. "You have walked this Earth alone for a long time. It only stands to reason that you are cautious of your surroundings and those you interact with."

"Yeah."

"Well," Seonghwa says, reaching out and placing his lifeless hand on San's shoulder, "I am glad you confided in me."

San chuckles at that. "Guess you could say I am too."

Seonghwa's hand feels like a weight on his shoulder, but that's about it. There is no warmth, like humans are supposed to radiate. Obviously, with Seonghwa not being human, it makes sense that his hand feels like nothing, and even though San is sure he's the same way, it's not like Seonghwa could tell him.

They're both demons. They're not alive. They feel nothing, and that is how it will remain.

San wonders what it's like to feel warm, and maybe, deep deep down, he wishes somebody could tell him if he is or not.

***

Out of all things Wooyoung could spend his money on, he hadn't had _this_ in mind.

The meal is nothing overly extravagant because Yunho and Mingi have other plans that involve the rest of his money and then some. No, what comes _after_ the meal is the main event. His roommates drag him to a nearby shopping mall, stick him in every store with decently-priced, semi-fashionable clothes, and make him try so many outfits on that he never wants to go shopping again.

Their plan for the night: get Wooyoung laid.

Every single time Wooyoung walks out of a dressing room, he feels a like a chunk of his soul is being ripped out. It's getting late ("Perfect! That's when the clubs get busy, duh," Yunho claims), and all Wooyoung wants to do is sleep, but there's no way his roommates will let him. No, they'd jump on his bed, douse him in water, do anything to make him get up so they can drag him to a bar or club or wherever he can mingle because according to them, he's touch-starved and needs some stress relief.

Wooyoung feels just fine. He can't remember the last time he had sex, but he feels just fine.

His plan for the night: go out against his will, wait until Yunho and Mingi get drunk and wander off, then go home and sleep.

They end up at a pretty high-end nightclub that's "all-inclusive" ("You'll have more options since you're, y'know, gay as fuck," says Mingi, to which Wooyoung corrects him and tells him he's _bi_ ), and while Wooyoung has gone clubbing before, it's never been an overwhelmingly positive experience to the point where he likes it and wants to do it. Every time before, he'd gone because someone else asked him to tag along. He'd much rather just stay home and watch anime while eating ice cream curled up in a blanket burrito.

The thing is, this night club is farther away from their apartment, about a twenty minute drive and an even farther walk, so if Wooyoung wants to get home, he needs to take an Uber or something because there's no way he's walking home alone at night. No fucking way.

Not with that killer still prowling around.

The club is bustling tonight, being Friday and all, and even with the news of the killer going around, people will still go out and have their fun. It worries Wooyoung a lot because he knows that people walk home alone sometimes, _drunk_ , making them easy targets for the killer, and God forbid someone gets murdered around here because Wooyoung might just collect all his life savings and leave the country.

Everyone around him seems just as exuberant as ever, however. Maybe he's the only one who's afraid. Maybe everyone else thinks this is no big deal because they won't be targets. Maybe he's overthinking this. Maybe he really _should_ just let loose and try to have fun without worrying about having his heart torn out of his chest. _Maybe_ some alcohol will help him forget some of that.

Yeah, that could be a good plan. Just have a bit to drink, forget about being murdered, maybe have a little hookup in the bathroom. Stress relief, as Yunho and Mingi said.

He can do this.

When they finally get past security, Wooyoung heads straight for the bar with Yunho and Mingi trailing behind him. The bass is obnoxiously loud, as it always is in nightclubs, so maybe some alcohol will help drown it out. Yunho throws an arm around him, pulling him in while they lean over the bar and call the bartender over. "Whatcha want, Woo? Our treat."

"It better be your treat. You guys made me spend all my money."

"Yeah, yeah, well, maybe your secret admirer will come back and give you more," Yunho shouts over the music. When the bartender finally gets to them, Yunho orders an entire round of assorted shots because "fuck the system," whatever that means. Yunho doesn't make the most sense a lot of the time.

Mingi pounds his share the shots despite having the lowest alcohol tolerance out of all of them, and about three seconds after his fourth one he's already stumbling over nothing and leaning onto Yunho for support. "Wooyoung-ah!" Yunho practically screams. "Let me know if you need us to find somebody, we're gonna go dance!" Wooyoung knows that by "dance" he means get up on the platforms with poles on them and do some freestyle pole routine. An amusing sight if Wooyoung's ever seen one, but he's just not feeling it.

Downing his last shot, he sits at the bar and faces the crowd, watching as his two tall roommates snake their way into the middle of the throng until they reach the platforms. A sea of hands clap for them as they hoist themselves up onto either platform.

Wooyoung wonders how often they come here for the crowd to be so hyped for them, but then again, everyone's probably drunk and would be hyped for anybody.

He figures he should probably stay put and let Yunho and Mingi have their fun. His usual clumsiness plus alcohol is basically a walking injury sentence (he would say death sentence but he really doesn't want to think about that at the moment since he's trying to forget about it), so it would be best for him not to move from his seat. If he does dance, it'll be with Yunho and Mingi _not_ on a pole. If he has to get up and move, he'll sit on one of the couches and continue his people watching.

The shots kick in eventually, but Wooyoung still doesn't move, still aware enough that he shouldn't get rowdy. He orders another drink, a mixed one because why the hell not, and asks the bartender to surprise him. He's waiting patiently, watching Yunho and Mingi's pole routine when someone sits next to him. He pays them no mind until he hears them speak.

"Hey."

It's a very subtle "hey," but it's loud enough that Wooyoung knows it's directed at him. He turns and looks at the guy, who's smiling widely at him. Wooyoung has to admit the guy is quite handsome, well-dressed with flawless skin, silver hair, almost so perfect that it looks like he could be an idol. It makes Wooyoung wonder if he actually is one.

"Hi," he says, blinking obliviously, his mind focused on his missing drink.

"Can I get you something to drink?"

Wooyoung almost laughs. It's always like this, where someone approaches another person at a bar and asks them if they want something to drink. Alcohol does wonders in these cases, and it _usually_ ends up with sexual activity in the questionably hygienic nightclub bathroom.

"I just ordered something for myself a little while ago," Wooyoung says with a shrug. "Should be here any second."

"Ah, well, after that, if you'd like something to drink, just let me know." The man winks at him, clicking his tongue, and stalks back into the crowd.

Weird, Wooyoung thinks.

His drink arrives not even a minute later, thank God. Yunho and Mingi carry on their routine when two drag queens hop up on the poles with them, eliciting even louder cheers from the crowd. He chuckles around his straw. He's seen Yunho and Mingi do this before, but no one's ever joined them. It's quite a sight, and Yunho and Mingi are all for it.

Wooyoung reaches into his pocket for his phone so he can take a video when he feels nothing but his wallet.

Well, shit. How could he forget his phone? Now he has no choice but to wait for Yunho and Mingi to be done with their shit.

Maybe he _should_ find somebody to occupy his time with.

The crowd is just a massive blur of bodies upon bodies with indistinguishable faces. There's that guy from earlier, but he's seemed to have vanished from sight completely. He can't really see anybody else clearly, and he's not about to throw himself into a crowd of sweaty, drunk, possibly horny party-goers who just want to grind on him.

Yeah, no, he'd rather just wait for his roommates to be done.

He glances to his right, where the entrance to the club is. People are still filing in past security, all short skirts and dress pants, glitter and colorful lipstick. To his left, the rest of the bar, a private lounge, the bathrooms, and a smoking area. Directly in front of him, the dance floor where all the magic happens.

God, he's so fucking bored.

There are a few people sitting at the bar other than himself, a pair who's seeming to get along really well at the moment, a lonesome woman in a short black dress twirling her finger around an empty glass, and two girlfriends (romantic or platonic, Wooyoung doesn't know) probably gossiping about something.

He lets out a deep sigh. A club is supposed to be a fun place, right? Why is he so goddamn bored?

He's sucking the last of his drink in when he spots the guy from before emerging from the crowd in the direction of the bar, just not towards Wooyoung this time. Instead, he takes a seat next to the woman in the black dress, probably using the same line he said to Wooyoung. Rolling his eyes, Wooyoung swivels his chair back around to face the bar, pushing his glass off to the side.

He watches as the pair from before walk towards the bathroom hand in hand, chuckling to himself and wishing them well with their good time. The girlfriends are still chatting away, and it looks as if the man is successful in getting the woman a drink. The bartender nods, heading in Wooyoung's direction to retrieve a bottle from the shelf in front of him. He hangs his head low, loosely wrapping his fingers around his long empty glass and watches out of the corner of his eye.

The man has his hand in his pocket, shuffling around for something.

Wooyoung might be a little tipsy, but he isn't fucking stupid.

He stands up while the bartender puts together two drinks, strides past the man, and plops himself down next to the woman in the black dress. Seemingly startled, she turns towards him and raises an eyebrow at him. "Can I help you?"

"Ah, no," Wooyoung says. "You just, uh, looked like you could use some company."

"I have someone getting me a drink, actually," the woman says, her voice rich and alto though her features are soft.

"Oh, well, um—"

"Oh, it's you." The man has returned, two glasses in his hand. One is a mixed drink, the other looks to be straight up whisky. "Can I still interest you in a drink?"

Wooyoung tries his best not to appear intimidated, eyeing the two glasses in the man's hands. He doesn't know _which_ one it is, but there's no way in hell he's letting this happen. The guy hands the glass of whisky to the woman, completely ignoring his previous question, it seems.

"Thank you, dear," the woman coos, raising the glass to her lips.

_No no no no no!_

"Hey," Wooyoung says suddenly, aimed at either of them, "you guys know about the serial killer who's been in the news lately?"

The woman pauses, lowering her glass and glaring at him suspiciously. "And what about it?" she questions.

"Are you trying to scare her?" the man asks, almost threateningly.

"I-It was just a question," Wooyoung stammers. God, this is so fucking awkward, but he is _not_ letting that woman take a single sip of her drink. "Do you think they're around here? Their last attack was actually pretty close to the place I work at—"

"You know," the guy says, "you really should have taken up my offer. Maybe that would have shut you up."

Frowning, the woman places her glass on the table and turns her chair to face the man. "Well, that's not very nice," she says, her shoulders sagging. She sighs and picks up her glass. "You keep the drink. I don't want it anymore." She holds the glass out to the man, who's gawking at her in disbelief, seemingly offended.

"Are you serious?"

"Yes, I am." The woman presses the glass to the man's chest, harshly ushering for him to take it from her. "Don't make me drop it all over that nice suit of yours."

The man's look of disbelief transforms into one of hostility as he reluctantly takes the glass. "Fine. You two enjoy each other." As he walks off, Wooyoung hears him mutter, "Fuckin' pussy boy."

As if the woman can sense Wooyoung's intuition, she reaches her hand out and places it gently on his forearm. "Don't," she says. "He's not worth it."

"Ah, I, um, I'm sorry about that," Wooyoung says. "I'll leave you alone now."

Before he can stand, the grip on his forearm tightens, urging him to stay. "No, please stay. I appreciate what you did."

"It's no problem, really. I, ah, he just seemed a little sleazy to me, you know?"

The woman nods. "Yeah, I get you. I just normally don't pass on free drinks."

Wooyoung chuckles. "Well, unfortunately it was a waste of money for him."

"Indeed."

"Uh, what's your name?" Wooyoung asks.

The woman blinks at him, pausing for a few seconds before she answers with, "Haneul."

"Oh, that's a nice name. I'm Wooyoung."

"It's lovely to meet you... Wooyoung."

When Wooyoung glances back over at the crowd, the platforms are bare of two tall idiots and are instead occupied by the drag queens alone. Despite Yunho and Mingi being practically giants, Wooyoung can't spot their heads anywhere. "Were those your friends earlier? The ones on the poles?" Haneul asks.

"Ah, yeah," Wooyoung says, scratching his head awkwardly. "They were the ones who kinda coerced me into coming here. I didn't really want to come."

"This scene is not for everybody," Haneul says sympathetically. "I can understand why you wouldn't want to come here."

Wooyoung sighs and shrugs. "Honestly, I'm probably just gonna leave soon. I'm tired and want to sleep. Just, ah, I forgot my phone, so I can't call an Uber or anything."

Haneul smiles and lets out a small laugh. "I did too. What a coincidence. Perhaps we can walk home together? I live not too far from here, perhaps a ten minute walk."

"I live, uh, much farther than that."

"That's alright," Haneul says, already beginning to stand. Wooyoung finds himself following. "I can walk with you back to your place. I don't have anything else to do. And like you said, it's not good to be alone with the killer around."

"O-Oh. Um, yeah, I appreciate that. Are you sure?"

Haneul nods, motioning her head towards the exit, where people are still entering. "Of course. Let's go, Wooyoung."

Almost as if entranced, Wooyoung follows her. She's only a bit shorter than him in her heels, her dark brown hair reaching the small of her back. The dress is a lot longer than it looked while she was sitting down, not that it matters that much. She's really attractive, Wooyoung thinks, but as much as Yunho and Mingi are advocating for him to get laid, his nerves have him a lot more anxious than usual, what with that guy and the killer and all. He just _really_ wants to go home and sleep.

\---

The walk is silent, apart from the clacking of Haneul's heels along the pavement. They've reached a more secluded area, where all they're surrounded by are old buildings, litter, and the smell of urine. A few horns and the beeps of traffic lights can be heard in the background, smothered by distance, and all Wooyoung can feel is the light summer breeze and this odd sensation of fear built up in his bones. Sure, he's not walking alone, but what if he's killed in front of Haneul? Or what if Haneul is killed and he can't do anything about it? What if she's killed and Wooyoung gets framed for it?

What if—

"You're tense," Haneul states out of nowhere.

"Oh, uh, am I?" Wooyoung asks.

Hanuel chuckles. "Are you truly worried about that killer?"

"Ah, um, kind of? I mean, the last attack happened at a motel not too far from where I work, so, like, I don't know. It's got me kind of on edge."

"I think you'll be just fine." Haneul's words make Wooyoung's blood tremble, and he's not even sure how that's possible. It feels really weird.

There are a few dim street lamps above them that are enough to light the way, but it still has Wooyoung slightly terrified. There are alleyways left and right; what if the killer jumps out at them? What if both of them are ambushed and killed together?

"Wooyoung, really," Haneul says, her hand gently resting on his forearm once more. She stops in her tracks, holding onto him as she does. "Everything is going to be okay. You're not going to get killed."

"I just—"

Something shifts in the air, and Wooyoung can feel it. It's vague, but it's there. He watches Haneul's face as it suddenly freezes up, her eyes locked somewhere behind him. "Haneul," he says, "what's—"

There's something around his neck, squeezing it, cutting off his air supply before he can even register what's going on. It's gripping him _hard_ , his throat already beginning to burn from the outside in. There's something _sharp_ too, breaking the skin into his neck, and he can't tell if it's the thing that's strangling him or something else. His entire throat is on fire, being both constricted and pierced, his eyeballs strained feeling like they're swollen already. He opens his mouth in an attempt to scream.

"You two," he hears a fuzzy voice say, "really got on my nerves earlier. You want a killer? I'll give you a killer."

Rolling his eyes up, Wooyoung can see the man from before's face, upside down and looking down at him with wild eyes and a crazed smile. He's sweating, some of it dripping onto Wooyoung's face, as he laughs maniacally.

"Ha—" Wooyoung tries, but it only exacerbates the pain in his throat. He gasps, trying to inhale any sort of air that he can get, but opening his mouth further causes him to choke, feeling as if his entire throat is being ripped out of his skull.

Then, Wooyoung hears and feels a thud.

He's released, though there's something sticky on his neck, _blood_ , and he can feel the stinging pain lingering on his skin, like tiny lacerations covering his throat. As he gasps for breath, he glances down, seeing a loose strand of barbed wire.

What the _fuck_?

It's the killer. It has to be.

"Ha... neul..." he wheezes, the small gashes in his throat still making it hard to breathe and speak. His words come out as pitiful croaks as he rolls onto his stomach and forces his neck to crane upwards in order to get a glimpse of his attacker.

What he sees is something he never thought he'd see in a million years.

When his senses begin to return, his hearing specifically, he can hear the voices of the man and someone else, but it doesn't sound like Haneul.

No, it's someone, some _thing_ different. It's inhuman.

"You," a cacophony of voices rings, "have quite the evil heart."

"W-What the hell are you?" the man screams, sounding garbled in his throat.

"You want to be a killer?" the chorus of jarring vocals says, almost echoing in Wooyoung's head. "I'll show you a _real_ killer."

It's Haneul. That black dress, the heels, it's _Haneul._ But she's standing above the man, whose hands are useless by his sides, as her nails extend, long, razor-like claws bursting from her hands.

And then, Wooyoung witnesses something unspeakably terrifying.

Haneul's body almost seems to simmer away, her bare legs being replaced by fully-clothed ones, her dainty figure expanding into one of a _man._ Her dress disappears, as do her heels. Horrified, Wooyoung attempts to prop himself up on his elbows, watching as Haneul's hair shortens and changes color, going from a dark brown to a midnight black. She's fully dressed now, her shoulders broad.

" _What are you_?" the man screeches, voice breaking as absolute terror fills his entire body, his being, because even though Wooyoung isn't the one being pinned down, he can feel it. He imagines that the man must be feeling this multiplied by a million.

True, all-consuming terror.

"The Heart-Ripping Killer," an unfamiliar voice speaks. "Though, I feel like the title 'Heart-Eating Killer' is more accurate."

That voice no longer belongs to Haneul. Wooyoung doesn't know _who_ it belongs to. Haneul has seemed to disappear, at least, what Wooyoung had seen of Haneul, but she is now replaced by someone apparently male, draped in black with demonic claws protruding from its hands.

Wooyoung can't see everything from his angle, nor can he stand, but what he _can_ see are those claws as they plunge into the man's chest. All ten of them, thrust into this man's chest as he futilely kicks his legs.

Wooyoung can't see everything from his angle, but he hears the last struggled gurgle in this man's throat and some sort of squelching sound.

"To think, humans kill each other over such petty things," the male voice says, claws still buried in the man's chest.

Between the creature's legs, Wooyoung can see its hands tear something out.

"I wasn't planning on eating any hearts tonight, but..."

Wooyoung can feel his vision start to go black at the sides.

"You annoyed the fuck out of me."

This person, this _thing_ , is still talking to the man. But even Wooyoung can tell this man is no longer alive.

It's sadistic. This thing is sadistic.

"He's just a poor busboy with respect for women."

_Wait, what?_

When the creature finally lowers its hands, blood drips from them and lands on the pavement beneath them. As Wooyoung strains his neck further up, trying to get a decent look at the thing towering above him, the claws retract, leaving perfectly normal-looking hands (apart from the blood) in its wake. It turns around.

The face.

It's a man who looks vaguely familiar, but Wooyoung can't quite put his finger on it.

"I'm sorry, Wooyoung," it says, kneeling down in front of him.

"Who... what are you?" Wooyoung asks the same question.

The thing, the creature, the man, _whatever it is_ , smiles. There's blood all around its mouth, but the smile is... human.

"I go by San."

***

San normally doesn't feel guilt because he has no reason to. He doesn't involve himself with the living, and the living that he does get involved with, he kills _without_ guilt. But seeing that there's a perfectly living, innocent heart in front of him, he can't help but feel a bit guilty for what he's about to do.

He sends Wooyoung to sleep.

"I was certainly not expecting that," Seonghwa says from close by, appearing by San's side in a matter of seconds.

"Out of all the things I can do, healing is not one of them." San bites his lip, looking down at Wooyoung's unconscious but still breathing body. "What do you think, Seonghwa? Can we do anything?"

"The best we can do is wipe his memory, but I do not think we can heal him," Seonghwa says, bending down to analyze the damage. "Had the attacker kept strangling him more forcefully, he surely would have had more damage to his throat. However, while I see puncture wounds on his neck, there does not seem to be any internal damage. He was not close to death."

"You can tell all of that just by looking at him?" San asks.

"I am an expert of injury and death," Seonghwa tells him, "and I can see into the living."

"Oh, well, that would have been nice to know. So, kinda like X-ray vision?"

"I... guess."

"That's useful." San crouches by Seonghwa, tilting Wooyoung's head to the side to see the wounds for himself. "He's gonna be real confused when he wakes up with these."

"He will have a sore throat for several days, maybe weeks, but he will live," Seonghwa concludes with a nod.

"You know... I'm used to disposing of dead bodies, not living ones." He looks over at his partner. "What should we do with him?"

"He gave you his address, did he not?"

San nods. "Yeah, but I don't know if we can get in. I can't exactly pass through solid objects or teleport."

"Then... perhaps we should wait until his friends arrive. Put them under hypnosis, get them to take Wooyoung inside, and everything will be set. Like you said, Wooyoung will be very confused when he wakes up, but at least he will be alive."

San glances down at Wooyoung again, thinking about why _this_ is the reason why he doesn't get involved with the living. With innocents. There are too many loose ends that can't be tied, lost memories that make no sense, and too many questions left unanswered. It's _messy_ , and San hates the mess unless it's bloody.

This is a completely different kind of mess.

"Well, uh, how do we get to his apartment without being seen? We're a bit, um, dirty at the moment," San says, motioning at both him and Wooyoung.

After a few seconds of consideration, Seonghwa sighs, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a whole ass iPhone, the latest model, of all things. "What the fuck? You have a phone?" San asks, bewildered.

"You do not?" Seonghwa asks.

"Well, I do, but I don't carry it around usually since I don't really have a use for it."

"Well, perhaps you should reconsider." Seonghwa doesn't even look at San once as he taps away at the screen. "Okay, I arranged for an Uber to pick us up at our exact location."

San glances to his right, his left, everywhere around him. "Um, Seonghwa, we're in the middle of fucking nowhere."

Seonghwa shrugs, wordlessly hauling Wooyoung's limp body over his shoulder like it's nothing. He doesn't say anything as he starts walking, with San trailing behind him after a few seconds of being frozen by amazement.

"You know what an Uber is?" San asks as they emerge from the alleyway and onto the sidewalk of a barren street where, hopefully, their Uber will pick them up, bloody bodies and all.

"San, I may be ancient, but I have learned to adapt to the times. As a demon that walks the human world, I too must utilize human contraptions, though it may not be often."

"You're... so weird."

"You eat hearts."

"You eat souls."

"I do not eat them, I reap them. There is a difference."

"Whatever."

And to San's everlasting surprise, a silver sedan pulls up, and San immediately sets his plan to action. He and Seonghwa pile into the car where they squish Wooyoung's body in between them. Looking the driver dead in the eyes, San tells him, "Don't say a word, okay?"

The driver takes them to Wooyoung's apartment in dead silence, so much that San can barely hear him breathe, though his heart is pounding in his chest.

Their apartment complex is mediocre, nothing compared to the one that San lives in. Hardly any lights are on, and there isn't a soul in sight. The blood on San's hands and mouth have long dried, but some has stained onto Wooyoung's clothes as well, possibly the backseat of the Uber's car, but when San brings that up to Seonghwa, he shrugs and tells him, "Well, tell him to clean it."

Before they exit the car, San does just that. With blank eyes, the driver nods, rolls his windows up, and drives off.

Now, two demons, one with a human hanging from its shoulder, stand in front of an occupied building and have to wait until two more living arrive.

"Well this is just fucking great," San huffs, this time with Wooyoung over his shoulder instead of Seonghwa. "What if someone sees us?"

"Persuade them, obviously. Unless you want somebody to remember you with your face covered in blood holding what looks to be a dead body."

If Seonghwa could feel pain, San would kick him in the dick. If... he has one. San would ask, but he feels like that would be too intrusive.

San doesn't know how long they wait for, since time doesn't really stick with him in the first place, but there's another car that pulls up, and San and Seonghwa approach it swiftly yet carefully. San stares at all the passengers through the windows. There are three including the driver, two men in the backseats. Slowly, they step out of the car, one of them putting their hands up.

"Come here," Seonghwa tells them. The two tall men step onto the curb, and the one who'd put his hands up lowers them. The reaper gazes into the Uber straight at the driver and says, "Now, do not say a word, and sleep well tonight, okay?"

Without a word, the driver nods and drives away, much like their own Uber driver.

And now, two demons face two living.

"This is your friend Wooyoung, correct?" San asks, pulling Wooyoung off his shoulder and opting for carrying him bridal-style.

One of them nods. "Yeah."

"Can you let us in? He's had a bit of a rough night."

"Okay," the other one agrees easily, and they both lead the way into the apartment, the two demons following closely behind them.

Their apartment seems small in comparison to San's, _especially_ for three people. It's a bit disorganized, but that's to be expected of three young adults living together who all seem like they have more "important" things to do than clean their own living space. Glancing around the apartment, San asks, "Where's his room?"

The one with the deeper voice motions them into the hallway. "Down here."

It's a simple bedroom with dreary walls and tragically plain furniture, but San supposes it's what someone Wooyoung's age can live with, especially with a café job. He sets Wooyoung down on the bed, straightening his body out. The wounds on his neck have already begun to scab over. "Sir," San says, turning to Wooyoung's deep-voiced roommate, "what is your name?"

"Song Mingi," he answers automatically.

"And the other?"

"Jeong Yunho."

San nods. "Good to know."

When San reconvenes with Seonghwa in the foyer, he morphs into Haneul, causing Seonghwa to eye him curiously. "It's a disguise, you know? At least I'm not covered in blood."

Seonghwa pays him no mind as they stand face-to-face with Wooyoung's roommates. "So," he begins, "Wooyoung has had a bit of a rough night. He has several small puncture wounds on his neck, and will have a sore throat for a little while. Tell him that he got into a bit of a scuffle while intoxicated where somebody attempted to strangle him with a studded belt—"

San nearly breaks his neck with how quickly he turns to face Seonghwa in shock.

"—but the points on the belt ended up being much sharper than anticipated and punctured his neck. Then tell him that it was all a joke and that the person who tried to strangle him apologized."

"Seonghwa, are you _joking_ —"

"Okay," the two roommates say simultaneously.

"Is Wooyoung really going to believe all of that?" San whispers.

"Because he had his memory wiped, he has been influenced and does not know what happened, so he will believe whatever he is told. Did you not know that is how influence works?"

"Not entirely. Never really had to use it like this," San grumbles, scowling and crossing his arms.

"You learn something new every day, fellow demon," Seonghwa says with a magazine smile. "Thank you for your help, gentlemen. It was lovely meeting you. Sleep well tonight, okay?"

Yunho and Mingi nod and turn on their heels, dragging their feet along the floor somewhere further into the apartment. San rolls his eyes and walks out, Seonghwa following closely behind him. Instinctively, being in a female form, he sways his hips as he walks.

"This was not what I expected our first encounter together would be like," Seonghwa says, "but I am pleased. It was quite eventful."

"Yeah, well, I agree it was eventful, but I'm not exactly pleased."

"May I ask why?"

"It was messy. This is why I don't get involved with the living. I _kill_ the living. We don't mix."

"Well, you _saved_ a living tonight. How does that make you feel?"

San stops in his tracks. How does that make him _feel_?

"It's... weird."

"By weird, do you mean unfamiliar?"

San scoffs and begins walking again, his heels heavy against the floors. For insurance, he wipes the security cameras, albeit not completely, and the two demons make their way back out into the night where they belong.

It _is_ unfamiliar, Seonghwa has that right. But San is also frustrated, not necessarily angry, but he's fucking annoyed because now, there's going to be a lot of confusion between all the living they've influenced, too many loose ends, too many lost memories, and above all the frustration and annoyance...

San is _worried._

He doesn't know exactly what for, but he is.

Now _that_ is unfamiliar.


	2. duo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter contains brief mentions/discussions of sexual harassment, rape, murder, and pedophilia

When Wooyoung wakes up, his throat fucking hurts.

Not only is it drier than a desert, it feels itchy, like there are a million bug bites across his skin, and when he reaches up to feel his neck, it certainly feels that way. Panicked, he practically launches himself out of bed and onto the floor, clambering back up to his feet and running to the bathroom.

His reflection is god awful. Not only are the bags under his eyes more prominent than usual, but there are several spots on his neck that look to be wounds of some sort. Lifting his head, he examines the strange marks that are irritating his skin. Dried blood coats each wound, and touching them feels like something is being stabbed into his neck. Wincing in pain and discomfort, Wooyoung lowers his head, confused and terrified.

What the fuck happened last night?

He remembers the club. He remembers seeing Yunho and Mingi up on the poles, dancing their slutty hearts out. He remembers having a few drinks, but everything after that is a blur. Not a single image of events after his drinks. Nothing. Nada.

Did he really get that drunk last night? Even though his throat is killing them, his head feels fine, he's not nauseous, and there aren't any apparent signs of a hangover.

"What the hell?" His voice sounds like he's just crawled out of a sewer, dry and scratchy just like his throat feels. When he speaks, it feels as if there's a pressure around his throat, almost like it's being strangled by something. In an attempt to clear his throat, he ends up coughing, which hurts ten times more.

There's a loud yawn from the hallway that belongs to none other than Jeong Yunho. Agitated, Wooyoung bursts into Yunho's room where Mingi is laying beside him, a rare sight, but nothing entirely new. It usually happens when the two of them get drunk and are too lazy or intoxicated to care where they sleep. Yunho's stretching his arms out, still fully dressed from last night's outing, face scrunched with sleep.

Wooyoung stands against the doorway with his arms crossed. "Yunho-yah."

Yunho moans sleepily. "Oh, what's up, Wooyoungie?"

With an annoyed stare, Wooyoung points at his neck. "Care to explain how this happen?" The question comes out weakly, voice suppressed into nothing more than just above a whisper.

Squinting, Yunho throws his legs over the bed and stands up, padding over to look at Wooyoung's neck. "Oh, yeah, that. We all got pretty drunk at the bar, and you kind of got into a fight with someone. Not a major one, but the guy tried to strangle you with a studded belt—"

"What?" Wooyoung squeaks, followed by a cough.

Yunho chuckles. "Yeah, it was really rough, but he swore it was just a joke and you were just kinda like, 'yeah, whatever.' The dude apologized. He kind of underestimated how sharp the spikes on his belt were."

Wooyoung's entire face twists with dismay. "You guys let me get strangled?"

"Hey, we only got there after we noticed there was a commotion! And when we saw it was you, we pulled the guy off of you and he let go. The guy got thrown out, but like, we were all pretty drunk and didn't care all that much. You're probably gonna have a sore throat for a while, but—"

"You guys. Let me. Get strangled." Despite his voice being virtually useless, his rage is still present in it, a threatening tone to his words.

Yunho grimaces, scratching his head. "Y-Yeah. I'm sorry, Wooyoung-ah."

"If I have to see a doctor for this shit, you guys are paying my medical bills." Wooyoung doesn't even bother listening to Yunho's protest as he returns to the bathroom, looking back into the mirror and inspecting the damage to his neck.

The spikes from the guy's belt left warped, star-shaped punctures all around his neck, reaching the back, though the more critical damage is centered around his windpipe. Was the guy trying to kill him or something? With the spikes, he's surprised the wounds aren't deeper and that his windpipe isn't collapsed. The guy strangled him with enough force to leave marks, but not enough to kill, apparently.

What the actual fuck?

Letting out a deep sigh (which also hurts), Wooyoung steps out of the bathroom and trudges back to his room, where he rummages through his wardrobe to find every single turtleneck he owns.

He owns one.

\---

Plagued by guilt, Yunho and Mingi let Wooyoung borrow their own turtlenecks, which Wooyoung swims in a bit since they're both much bigger than he is, but it conceals the wounds. The material is coarse against them, but it's all Wooyoung can do to hide all of them. He gets a few strange looks from his classmates since Wooyoung wears turtlenecks several days in a row, and even Yeoju questions his odd change in fashion choices, to which Wooyoung just shrugs and tells her it was a dare from Yunho and Mingi. She believes it completely.

His voice returns to him eventually, a few days after the whole incident, but the cuts still itch, which he attempts to ignore to avoid breaking the skin and causing more bleeding. Though his throat still feels scratchy on the inside, his voice is fine, and he's able to communicate without it hurting too much. He drinks a lot of water and waits for the wounds to heal over, though he's sure they're going to leave scars.

Just fucking great. Wooyoung can't wear turtlenecks forever.

It's about a week after the incident when he hears another news story similar to the one he'd heard the previous week.

The Heart-Ripping Killer has struck again.

This time around, it had taken authorities a bit more time to find the body, as it was stashed away in a deserted alleyway, but according to the report, that alleyway had been the scene of the crime. Just like numerous times before, the victim's chest had been torn open, its heart missing, but apparently, he's been dead for an entire week.

And if things couldn't get any worse, that alleyway isn't too far from the nightclub Wooyoung and his roommates had gone to. It's so secluded that nobody found the body until the victim's friends reported him missing. His photo isn't shown during the news report, but Wooyoung takes it upon himself to search an article up online where a photo of the victim's face is posted.

It's a young male, unsurprisingly, with glowing features so perfect that he could very well be an idol, with silver hair and a cat-like face. He goes by the name of Min Dongsuk, a twenty-two-year-old college student who attends a university not far from Wooyoung's. In fact, Wooyoung knows someone from that university who's a friend of Yunho and Mingi, named Choi Jongho. He's never really interacted with Jongho, but sometimes he'll hear him screaming at his roommates over the phone at ungodly hours of the night.

When news reaches Yunho and Mingi, the reality begins to set in. One night, while they're sat around their coffee table eating their dinner, Yunho brings it up. "Jongho knew Dongsuk," he confesses.

"What did he know about him?" Wooyoung asks reluctantly.

"I talked to him the other day," Yunho says, his voice more serious that Wooyoung has ever heard. "Jongho wasn't friends with him, but he knew about Dongsuk's reputation. Apparently, he was a bit of a pervert."

Mingi's nose scrunches in disgust. "He's verbally harassed a few people on his campus, both guys and girls," Yunho goes on. "According to Jongho, he was bisexual, not that it matters all that much, but... if I had to guess, he was probably at the same nightclub we were at the night he was killed."

A tense silence hangs in the air. Wooyoung doesn't remember seeing this guy's face, but Yunho's assumption makes sense. If he was killed in a nearby alleyway near an all-inclusive club where there could be plenty of potential victims of harassment, then chances are he was at that club.

It makes Wooyoung's gut wrench.

"Remember what Yeoju said? About the killer's victims being creeps?" Mingi asks. "Well, what if she's right? What if the killer really _does_ target sexual predators?"

There's an even longer pause of eerie silence. While Wooyoung never wanted to reach any conclusions about this killer, what they're saying makes sense. There are offenders everywhere, lurking among the general public, whose intentions are never truly known until they act upon them. But like Mingi had brought up before, how would the killer even know about their identities? Sure, Dongsuk had that reputation, but what about the other victims?

If all of the killer's victims share that similar trait, how would the killer know?

"I mean, both things are fucked up. Being a sexual predator and being a murderer. It's, like, a really weird sense of justice," Yunho says. "Kind of like _Dexter_ , you know? A serial killer who kills other wrongdoers."

"It almost feels like we've been thrown into a crime show," Mingi mutters to himself.

"Well, it's like Yeoju said. We're not sexual predators, so we shouldn't be targets, right? I mean, I really _hope_ neither of you are sexual predators because I swear to God if I find out one of you is one, _I'm_ going to rip your heart out," Wooyoung huffs, scowling.

Even though the tension is thick, Yunho still chuckles. "I promise you, Wooyoung, we're not sexual predators. Perverts, probably, but what young adult isn't?"

"That sounds _very_ wrong," Mingi comments. "But I get what you mean. You have the perverts who laugh at the word 'penis,' which is the category we'd fall under, and then you have the perverts who stick their hands in places they don't belong."

Yunho and Wooyoung nod in agreement. "Look, we're innocent people, right?" Yunho's voice is small, almost scared, and Wooyoung has _never_ heard him like this. It makes his own anxiety build, hearing the energizer of the trio sounding so helpless. "Then I... I don't think we'd be targets. At least, I really really hope we won't be."

"Yeah," Mingi concurs, and while his voice is still small, it's a bit more confident. Classic Mingi. "Like, the man from last week. He was married and had a wife and kids, but what if he was having an affair? Or... doing other worse things? Sure, all we knew from the news report was that he was a rich businessman, but no one knew what he was doing behind the scenes, you know?"

For once, Mingi makes sense. Normally, Wooyoung would throw some sort of backhanded compliment at his usually simple-minded roommate, but he's speaking reasonably, reaching conclusions that sound actually plausible. However, hearing his roommates speak so seriously about this now, it makes him feel like his fear from before this most recent murder was truly justified. Yunho and Mingi are just as scared.

Having someone so near to them murdered makes the reality settle in further. The killer is _here_ , just as near, and _that's_ the reality. It's as if Yunho and Mingi have only just realized.

And it makes the marks on Wooyoung's neck all the more significant somehow. According to Yunho, someone had tried to _strangle_ him. Wooyoung can't remember that happening for the life of him, but what if the killings have driven other people insane? What if there are more attacks and attempted murders, all because of the true killer wandering around the streets? What if the person who attacked him did it for a reason besides being intoxicated?

_What if he was really trying to kill, but played it off as a joke?_

It makes Wooyoung's skin erupt in goosebumps that itch more than the scars on his neck.

***

There's something not right in the air, and San can feel it. There's a distinct heartbeat, apart from all the others, that beats erratically, the sound of _pure_ evil, and while San isn't particularly hungry, he wants that heart, and he wants it _badly._

As if noticing San's apprehension, Seonghwa taps his shoulder and looks at him curiously. "There is something on your mind. Care to share?"

"There's someone walking around... who's really, _really_ evil," San tells him. "There are too many heartbeats for me to tell who it belongs to, but it's there. It's so fucking loud and irregular and... it's evil. Pure evil. Psychotic."

That's what it is. The heartbeat of a psychopath.

"Is there anything else you can deduce about this person from hearing their heartbeat?" Seonghwa asks.

They're sitting on the roof of another building, this time in broad daylight, though they rest with their backs against the concrete, obscured from the street's view. It's a cloudy day, with a chance of rain probably. All San can hear are the hearts below, the wind, and blaring traffic horns. But among all of the rhythms he hears, there is one thrumming in his ears, one that is too raucous to be ignored. One belonging to a truly evil soul.

It makes San shiver with excitement.

"No, I can't tell anything. I have to know who this person is, see this person, in order to feel what their intentions could _possibly_ be," San informs the reaper.

"Do you think they have already committed their crimes?"

"Probably," San says with a shrug. "The evil ones are always rapists, murderers, things like that. So if I had to guess, this person could be one or the other, or both. If they're both, then their heart is going to be _delicious._ "

Seonghwa makes a noise of amusement. "Have you eaten the heart of an innocent apart from that one time?"

San shakes his head. "No, it was so disgusting that I nearly spit it out. I had to force it down because I was just so hungry. After that, it got easier to tell which hearts I would actually enjoy eating. Like an animalistic instinct, kind of. I ate one innocent heart, a couple not-so-innocent hearts, and once I had my first evil heart, I knew that _those_ were what I truly fed off of."

"But you are an incubus, are you not? A demon that feasts on sexual energy in human dreams?"

"Yeah, I can do that too," San says. "I just prefer not to. I don't know why."

"It is peculiar, but I do not question it that much. If eating the hearts of wrongdoers satiates your hunger, then so be it. You still have the ability of sexual persuasion though, correct?"

San nods. "Yeah. Kind of like my normal persuasion, just... sexual. I never really use it though, since I don't, like, _seduce_ people in that way, y'know?"

"Mm. I just find it strange that you are an incubus, yet you do not ingest your main source of energy. But it is as I said, it does not matter."

"Yeah. Whatever gets me by."

A couple birds fly over their heads. Black. Possibly crows. If San could smell, he wondered what the air would smell like. He has the ability to breathe, but has no need to, so he doesn't. Despite his ability to inhale through his nose, he cannot smell. He's aware that this is something humans can do, whatever "smell" is, but San has never smelled anything. Not even the hearts he eats. All he can do is taste them, but even then, he cannot describe what they taste like because he has nothing to compare them to.

When he drinks coffee, alcohol, whatever it may be, he can feel the liquid on his tongue before it slithers down his throat, but he feels nothing else. Whether it is hot or cold, San can't tell. He can't taste it.

San can touch. He can feel touch. But temperature, whatever that's supposed to feel like, is another missing factor. Hot and cold doesn't exist in San's body. The hearts that beat in his hand are just lumps of flesh and organ. Like Seonghwa's hand, they are solid, San can feel them against his skin, but whether they are hot or cold, he doesn't know. He _knows_ they're supposed to feel hot, warm, whatever, but he doesn't know what that feels like.

San can hear, he just hears things that humans don't. The blood that travels their arteries and veins, the heart pumping, the lungs exchanging oxygen. All of the things invisible to the human eye, inaudible to the human ears, San can hear.

He can hear everything but himself and whatever goes on in his body.

"San," Seonghwa says, snapping San out of his reverie, "this person whose heartbeat you are hearing. Will you eat his heart?"

"Yes," San answers right away.

"Okay." Seonghwa doesn't say anything else.

"Um... that was kind of a pointless question."

"I know."

"Then why did you ask it?"

"Why not?"

"Because it's fucking pointless?"

Seonghwa giggles, a reaper fucking _giggles_ , sighs happily, and snorts out another giggle. "What the fuck, Seonghwa?" San sits up, frowning at his partner.

"You are amusing, San." Seonghwa remains flat on the concrete, hands clasped over his abdomen with a cheery smile on his pale, dead face. "I do not think I have laughed this much in my entire existence."

"That's... kind of sad," San says, lying back down.

Seonghwa shrugs. "The existence of a demon is pretty pitiful like that, is it not?"

San sighs as another bird zips past them. He wonders what animals feel like, if flying feels like freedom, if trotting through open fields feels exhilarating. He wonders if their deaths hurt, what death feels like, what _pain_ feels like. He wonders if they feel emotions like humans do.

On the outside, San has the body of a human, but that's it. Internally, he doesn't know what his body does, and everything else about him is undeniably demon.

"Yeah," the incubus says as one final crow passes them by, "it is."

\---

It takes a bit of convincing, but San manages to coax Seonghwa into going to the coffee shop with him, the one that Wooyoung works at, because it's come to be one of San's favorite places. He likes to watch the street from the biggest window in the café, listen to all the heartbeats mingle into one, and drink coffee that he can't taste. Of course, since Seonghwa is a demon as well, coming here is quite pointless, but San figures if Seonghwa is going to be his partner, they might as well do things together.

"You know I do not normally show myself to, let alone interact with humans," Seonghwa mumbles into San's ear as they step foot in the coffee shop.

"Then let me do all the talking." Apprehensively, Seonghwa gazes up at the menu, a chalkboard with drink names that are probably unfamiliar to the reaper. He reads them, visibly confused. "What do you want?" San asks.

"I... do not know. What is a... macchiato?"

San snorts, suppressing a laugh. "I'll get you one. It's not like you can taste it anyway."

"You are correct."

The head barista is there as usual. Her nametag reads 'Yeoju,' which is something San hasn't bothered to read before. She greets them with a smile, completely oblivious to their last interaction, and takes their orders: a black dark roast coffee for San, and a macchiato, extra hot, for Seonghwa. When Yeoju turns away to make their drinks, Seonghwa leans in and says, "Why did you ask for it to be extra hot? You know it does not matter."

"I know," San replies, "which is why I ordered it extra hot."

"You confuse me sometimes, San."

"And you think you don't confuse me sometimes?"

Seonghwa grunts with annoyance but doesn't protest. Stepping aside, they let another customer ahead of them where another barista greets her. As they wait for their drinks, San can't help but search the café for the familiar face from where his feet are planted, though he knows the busboy is probably hidden away in the back.

"Looking for your innocent, I see," Seonghwa says.

" _My_ innocent?" San immediately looks to the reaper, unamused.

"You did save him. _And_ you learned his name. He may not remember you, but you surely remember him." A single corner of Seonghwa's mouth lifts into a smirk. "I would call him _your_ innocent."

Rolling his eyes, San opts out of replying since he would probably end up with another snarky comment. It doesn't take much time for Yeoju to bring their drinks out, and the two sit by the window, the one that San likes to gaze out of. The steam from Seonghwa's macchiato wisps into the café's air, creating a scent that neither of them can smell, but the other customers probably could. There's a white design on top in the shape of a heart, not an actual one, but one that humans like to draw as a symbol of love and adoration.

Seonghwa looks at the drink curiously, picking up the cup from the handle and bringing it under his nose. He sniffs it, his nose curling. "It does not smell like anything."

"Well, duh. We can't smell." San picks up his own mug, sipping his black coffee as he glances out at the street. A few raindrops have begun to land on the pavement, creating dark specks that begin to collect in numbers.

When San looks over, Seonghwa has finished the entire drink. In his defense, Seonghwa can't taste it nor feel how hot it is, but he could have at least sipped it slowly. It's hard to blend in when he gulps down an entire macchiato that's made _extra hot_ to the point of the steam practically erupting from the cup. "Seonghwa." San looks at his partner, frowning. "You could have at least, I don't know, took your time?"

Seonghwa shrugs. "I cannot taste it. Why would I take my time?"

"We're trying to blend in, remember?"

"I do not remember you telling me to blend in. You said you wanted me to come to this coffee shop with you, so I did."

Letting out a quiet frustrated groan, San tilts his head back and pinches the bridge of his nose. If he could feel pain, he would have a headache. "Besides, I doubt anybody was watching. People seem to be quite occupied with other things." Seonghwa looks over at the other tables, where customers are either conversing among each other, tapping away at their laptops, or scrolling through their phones. Sure, Seonghwa has a point, but he lacks common sense.

"San," Seonghwa says, placing his cup down gently, "do you remember what Wooyoung's heartbeat sounds like?"

"What?"

"Wooyoung's heartbeat. Did you hear his?"

San shakes his head slowly, realizing that he really doesn't. He had been too occupied with the heartbeat of his victim to hear Wooyoung's, and back at the club, the pulsing bass and the massive amount of people made it difficult to distinguish any sort of heartbeat. "No, I didn't."

"Perhaps you should listen for it," Seonghwa suggests. "That way, you know it is his."

"Why would I bother doing that?" San asks, almost condescendingly.

"It is merely a suggestion. He is the first human you have saved, correct?" San nods to confirm. "Then, if I were you, I would keep tabs on him."

San raises a brow. "Why?"

"San, I do not think you realize the weight of the situation," Seonghwa says, his tone more serious than San has ever heard from him. "You said it yourself, you _kill_ humans. Wooyoung was the first you saved, not to mention you ate a heart right in front of him. Remember that the man you killed tried to kill Wooyoung. While Wooyoung may not remember you because you wiped his memory, there are certain... limits to what we can do."

"What are you—"

Just then, San hears rattling and a pair of heartbeats approaching. Turning his head, he watches as two police officers enter the coffee shop, seemingly harmless, though their demeanor appears cautious, like they are walking in with a purpose. "San," Seonghwa whispers, "I did not tell you this, but... because Wooyoung is living, his DNA remains. We did not erase it. Not to mention we left the barbed wire that was used to strangle Wooyoung."

San whips his head back in Seonghwa's direction. " _What_?"

The two baristas gather at the counter apprehensively. "Hello, officers," Yeoju says confidently, but San can hear a jump in her heart. He looks in the direction of the counter, seeing her normally bright, cheerful face turn into one of unease. "What can we get for you today?"

One of the officers flashes his badge. "Our apologies, but we aren't here for coffee. We have been informed that there is an employee here by the name of Jung Wooyoung."

"Y-Yeah, there is," Yeoju stammers. "Do you need to see him?"

"That would be great, thanks."

San watches in panic as Yeoju disappears into the kitchen. "San," Seonghwa says, "I need to know if you are going to get involved in this."

"Involved in what?" San tries to keep his voice hushed.

"What is about to happen."

Yeoju brings Wooyoung out from the kitchen, and as Seonghwa suggested, San locks onto his heartbeat, closing his eyes as he drowns out the others'. Wooyoung's heartbeat is calm, like the waves of an ocean gently crashing onto a shore, loud but tame, but San can immediately hear the change when Wooyoung notices the officers.

Wooyoung's eyes widen with dread, though he approaches the officers anyway. "I-Is there something you need from me?"

When San looks around the café, he notices how all of the customers' eyes have landed on the scene. Seonghwa's eyes are focused on the situation as well, intense and _ready_ , and San can't help the nervous jitter that courses through his bones.

One of the officers casually walks behind Wooyoung, grabs both of his wrists, and cuffs him at the back. "W-Wait, what's going on?" Wooyoung cries wildly as his coworkers gasp in shock.

"Jung Wooyoung, you are under arrest for the murder of Min Dongsuk."

"San," Seonghwa hisses, grabbing his hand while the officers list Wooyoung's rights, "I _need_ to know if you are going to intervene."

"Why?"

"So that I may as well."

Partners. Right. That's what they are.

San helplessly looks back at the scene where Wooyoung's face is twisted with fear, appearing as if he's about to cry. His heart is shaking, pounding in his chest, his blood surging from his heart to the rest of his body. San can hear all of it, and it's deafening.

"I..."

"Wait, please! I didn't do anything!" Wooyoung doesn't resist physically, but his voice cracks with desperation as the officers nudge him out the front doors of the café, and before he knows it, San is standing abruptly, nodding at Seonghwa.

Seonghwa stands as San begins to storm out, following the police officers trail, eyes blazing with determination. From the café, San can hear all of the heartbeats plummet, the rhythms becoming nothing but tiny pins hitting the ground, and just several seconds later, Seonghwa reappears by his side. "You dazed _everyone_?" San leans in and whispers.

"It was necessary," Seonghwa says.

"Well, you might need to do it more," San mutters back. "Nobody can see what we're about to do."

"No worries, San. You speak to the officers, and I shall handle the rest."

With a solid nod, San picks up his stride, and it doesn't take long for the pair to catch up to the officers, where they're already beginning to lead Wooyoung into the back of the car. San can still hear the heavy thumping of Wooyoung's terrified heart, his breathing dry and heaving, and there's something else, something that San can't quite put his finger on. But San is focused on stopping the officers from getting in the car with the poor busboy as he puts his hand on one of the officers' shoulder. San can hear his heart dissolve at the touch.

"Sir," San says, his voice laced with persuasion. The other officer, who has closed the car door, locking Wooyoung inside, turns his gaze to San. The one whose shoulder his hand is on turns to look at him as well, clearly caught off guard.

San looks at the two of them straight in the eyes with Seonghwa right by his side. Lowering his hand, he braces himself, choosing his words carefully.

"You have the wrong man," San says. The officers blink. "Jung Wooyoung did not kill Min Dongsuk. He was, however, at the same nightclub that Dongsuk was at the night he was killed." San briefly glances to Seonghwa, who nods.

 _Connect the dots._ Seonghwa's voice rings in his head.

"Dongsuk and Wooyoung got... involved at the club," San continues at the officers stare blankly at the two demons, still spellbound. "Dongsuk attempted to strangle Wooyoung with the barbed wire found at the crime scene, which is how Wooyoung's DNA was found there. If you need confirmation, ask Wooyoung to lower that turtleneck of his." He motions his head towards the backseat, where Wooyoung is watching with curious yet still panicked eyes.

One of the officers opens up the door, where Wooyoung remains frozen in place. He motions for the busboy to exit, which he obeys to do, and the other officer reaches behind his back to uncuff him. "Wooyoung-ssi," the first officer says, his tone completely flat. "Let us see your neck."

"W-Why?" Wooyoung all but squeaks.

"We need to confirm something."

San avoids Wooyoung's eyes at all costs, but watches as the busboy lowers the turtleneck, and sure enough, there are dark scars dotting the skin of his throat, spiked in the shape of the barbed wire. Sure, Seonghwa had told Yunho and Mingi to tell Wooyoung he was strangled with a fucking studded belt (couldn't Seonghwa have come up with a better story than that?), but Wooyoung's entire reputation, his _life_ , is on the line here. San already saved him from death; he might as well save him from imprisonment while he's at it. He assumes that the DNA found at the crime scene was Wooyoung's blood on the barbed wire and maybe a few strands of his hair, but just as Wooyoung's blood was found on the attempted murder weapon, so should Dongsuk's fingerprints.

"Dongsuk attempted to strangle Wooyoung," San says again, which is the truth, but he knows he has to fabricate more, _connect the dots._ "He lured Wooyoung out to the alleyway, where he tried to strangle Wooyoung, but Wooyoung managed to get away. After that, Dongsuk was killed, but Wooyoung was not the one who killed him."

His eyes flick over to Seonghwa, whose eyes are remaining on the officers, but not once do they look to Wooyoung. "Wooyoung is not the culprit," San says, the story coming together. "And whatever evidence that points towards it... dispose of it."

"All of it," Seonghwa adds, glaring into the officers' eyes. It makes San's skin sing with how much power he can feel radiating off of the reaper. "Dispose of the wire. Dispose of Wooyoung's DNA, blood, hair, whatever you found that belongs to him."

San has never felt this much power before. It's making his entire body itch, and somehow, his claws are begging to surface as some sort of instinctual reaction. He grabs onto his wrist, digging his fingers into his lifeless flesh. "Do what you must to make Jung Wooyoung innocent. Even if you have to... persuade others."

So _that's_ what Seonghwa is doing. San didn't even know it was possible.

Somehow, Seonghwa can pass on the ability of persuasion.

Though San may be able to overpower Seonghwa in terms of strength, Seonghwa holds ten times more power and intelligence than he will ever possess.

"Am I understood?" Seonghwa asks somewhat innocuously.

The officers blink and nod at the same time. "Yes," both of them answer.

"Good," Seonghwa says with a similar nod. "Now leave this place. If you try to find Jung Wooyoung again, there will be consequences."

San watches in awe as the officers wordlessly enter their car and drive off without hesitation. Seonghwa releases a heavy sigh and turns to San. "San," he says, his eyes briefly flicking over to Wooyoung, "what we do next is your decision."

When San finally looks into Wooyoung's eyes, he feels it again.

Guilt. Worry.

Wooyoung is _terrified._ Everything, his eyes, heart, blood, bones, they're hammering in San's ears. Too many unanswered questions, too much confusion, it must be terribly overwhelming to such a fragile mind, a mortal one. If San were to wipe Wooyoung's memory again, it would stick with him.

He needs to tie the loose ends. Connect the dots.

"Wooyoung," San says, eyes boring into the busboy's, though he doesn't pour a single ounce of persuasion into the human.

"Y-Yeah?"

"You deserve an explanation. Come with us."

Wooyoung obeys, but he is not entranced. Instead, he is guided by San's hand on his wrist as the demon tugs him along in the direction of his own condominium, one that he hasn't had to use in a long time. Not even Seonghwa has seen it yet.

"I'm sorry, Wooyoung," San says without turning around. "I promise I will explain everything."

He can hear the human's heart burst into flames.

***

Wooyoung feels like he's going to throw up. Or pass out. Or die. Whatever. He's sweating so much, his palm clammy against this stranger's, whose hand is incredibly rough and cold. He lets himself be dragged along because his limbs feel like jelly and if he tries to walk on his own, he will sure fall over. The other stranger stays behind them, almost as if he's guarding them. He hangs his head low, tugging his turtleneck back up.

What the fuck did this stranger mean by he was strangled with _barbed wire_? And by Min Dongsuk of all people?

The busy roads disappear behind them and they're headed towards an unfamiliar neighborhood, one that Wooyoung has heard of but never been to. It's where the extremely wealthy live, the rich CEOs and wealthy businessmen and models and sort-of-celebrities. The man who's pulling him along is definitely handsome enough to be a model, but not so much that he'd live in a neighborhood like _this._

All of the condominium buildings are _huge_ , all designed differently to accommodate the different statuses. The building that the two strange men take him to is ridiculously polished, probably twenty-something stories tall with large windows and balconies overlooking the city. The lobby smells of leather and luxury as opposed to the smell of ramen and cheap alcohol that Wooyoung is used to. There's a receptionist at the front desk who pays them no mind, and Wooyoung can't help the nervous sweat he breaks into when he's cramped in the elevator with the most intimidating men he's ever encountered.

"I do not believe you have taken me to your home before," one of them says.

The other, who has a streak of blue in his bangs, says, "I don't come here often. Besides, I have plenty of homes."

Wooyoung swallows nervously. Just how rich is this guy?

The hallway is painted a brilliant white with matching tiles so glossy that they reflect the light right back into Wooyoung's eyes. The room that they take him to has a 'do not disturb' sign attached to the handle, but according to the blue highlight-haired man, he doesn't come here often.

Wooyoung is scared shitless, and also incredibly confused.

The owner of this condo opens the door with his key card, ushering Wooyoung inside. He's overwhelmed with the scent of cinnamon with a hint of vanilla as soon as he steps foot in the unlit condo. There are curtains lined against all the windows that block out nearly all the light, though it doesn't matter much. The sky had grown completely overcast on the way, with a sprinkle of rain that Wooyoung is sure will pick up.

Apart from the furniture, the condo just seems... empty. It's immaculate for sure, but if Wooyoung didn't know somebody lived here, he would have assumed it's vacant.

"Have a seat, Wooyoung," the one with the blue highlight says, motioning at the cream-colored sofa. As soon as Wooyoung takes a seat, he feels dirty. He shouldn't be here. If he were to somehow start bleeding from the nose, this guy would probably have his head for staining the matching shag carpet. He just hope that his sweat doesn't soak through his clothes and stain the sofa. The two men sit on either side of him, eyeing him carefully.

"Seonghwa," blue highlight says, "is is possible to return his memories?"

The other, Seonghwa, nods. "As soon as you tell him the true events, he will remember."

Blue highlight returns a nod of understanding. "Alright. Wooyoung, first of all, I go by... my name is San." He pauses.

"Okay, um, San," Wooyoung says, though San doesn't say anything further. "Is it... is it okay for me to ask what happened back there with the cops?"

"Yes, it is. But Wooyoung, I'm curious. What do you remember happening?"

Wooyoung squeezes his eyes shut, remembering San's words from before. How Dongsuk had tried to strangle him with a piece of barbed wire. The scars, though mostly healed over, begin to itch again as the memory seeps back into his brain. According to San, he managed to get away after Dongsuk lured him out to the alleyway, but that part is the fuzziest of all. He remembers being strangled, the pain, how his vision became black at the sides, but everything after that is gone. He can't remember running away.

"Dongsuk strangled me with a piece of barbed wire," Wooyoung says in a small voice, realizing that he can't remember why Dongsuk had done that in the first place. "He... wasn't the Heart-Ripping Killer though, right? He was the one who was killed. He had his heart ripped out."

San nods. "Yes, that is correct. Dongsuk was not the Heart-Ripping Killer."

"I can't remember what happened before or after he tried to strangle me," Wooyoung says. "I remember being at the club, having a few drinks... now, I can remember Dongsuk strangling me—" He grimaces, his throat beginning to close up at the memory. The sheer pain he'd been in. The most pain he'd ever felt in his life. "But I can't remember what happened after that. I can't remember getting away like you said. Besides, if I did get away, how did I do it?"

San closes his eyes and looks to Seonghwa, then back at Wooyoung. "Wooyoung, do you remember the name Haneul?"

Haneul. There was a woman. She was wearing a black dress that went just past her thighs, right above her knees. She wore heels that, in them, made her just a little shorter than him. She had long, dark brown hair that sat just above her lower back. Wooyoung met her at the bar, Dongsuk was there...

He remembers the drinks. How Dongsuk bought Haneul a drink, _whisky_ , and slipped his hand into his pocket to retrieve something that Wooyoung didn't even see, but knew was there. He rescued Haneul.

Or... did he?

"Yes," Wooyoung says slowly, his vague memories refilling his brain. "She was at the club. I think... Dongsuk tried to drug her drink."

"Go on." San leans in slightly, listening intently.

"I tried to stop her from drinking it," Wooyoung continues. "Dongsuk got annoyed at me, but Haneul ended up turning down the drink after he said something kind of asshole-y to me, and... we left together."

That's right. Haneul's heels tapped along the pavement. She offered to walk him back to his apartment because it wasn't safe at night with the Heart-Ripping Killer on the loose. And somewhere along the way, out of nowhere, Wooyoung was attacked.

The image of Dongsuk's sadistic eyes staring down at him, wild with insanity as he held a strand of barbed wire around his throat, flooded back into his brain. "Dongsuk really tried to strangle me. It wasn't a studded belt."

"No, it wasn't," San says, turning to Seonghwa. "Blame him for that lousy story."

"It was what I could come up with in the moment," Seonghwa says, monotone, with an indifferent shrug.

"And after that," Wooyoung goes on, ignoring the weird banter between the two, "I can't remember what happened."

"You were released from Dongsuk after he was knocked down by Haneul."

_Haneul did that?_

Right. Wooyoung remembers, as he gasped for breath, the pain wrapping around his throat, he'd looked up and saw Haneul's dress, her heels on either side of Dongsuk's body. Her legs... morphed. She suddenly became clothed, her shoulders expanded, her long hair disappeared, and...

_"I'm sorry, Wooyoung."_

That voice. Wooyoung knows that voice.

_"I go by San."_

Wooyoung feels the breath escape his throat, his heart hitting a high as he looks at San, the man with the bloody smile, the twisted, evil claws. The one who'd torn Dongsuk's heart out of his chest.

_"I feel like the title "Heart-Eating Killer is more accurate."_

Before Wooyoung can scream, he feels a cold hand around his mouth, smothering his sounds of panic. "Wooyoung, I promise you, you aren't in danger," San says, though his words offer no comfort. There are tears welling up in Wooyoung's eyes, his heart feeling like it's going to burst from his chest, but that's what San would love, right? The Heart-Ripping, the Heart- _Eating_ Killer.

He struggles in Seonghwa's hold, desperate cries muffled by his hand. "Remember, Wooyoung. I _saved_ you."

_"He's just a poor busboy with respect for women."_

San had knelt down in front of him. With claws retracted, he'd looked at Wooyoung ingenuously, smiled that bloody smile, and said, _"I'm sorry, Wooyoung."_

Haneul, _San_ , stopped Dongsuk from strangling him, and in turn, ripped his attacker's heart out and ate it.

Though his breaths are heavy and rapid, he stops attempting to scream. A few tears spill from his eyes, but as San continues to look in his eyes, he feels a strange sense of relief, _protection._ San really did save him. Slowly, Seonghwa removes his hand from Wooyoung's mouth. "You... San... you killed Dongsuk."

"I did." San, the man with the midnight black hair and blue highlighted bangs, the one with claws that Wooyoung has ever only seen in movies, saved him from being strangled by Dongsuk, but then killed him and ate his heart. "And after that, we wiped your memory and influenced your friends'. Yunho and Mingi, I believe their names were."

" _What_?"

"That was why they told you you got strangled by a studded belt. Because this idiot—" San nudges his head in Seonghwa's direction, "—couldn't come up with a better lie."

"What was I supposed to say? If I told them about the barbed wire, that would seem quite extreme, would it not? It would raise many more concerns than a studded belt, not to mention the humans that tend to go to those places seem to like such accessories. It was quite believable if you ask me."

"Seonghwa, your ancient is showing." San rolls his eyes and returns his attention to Wooyoung. "But yes, that's what happened. After I killed Dongsuk, I wiped your memory and sent you to sleep. When I was disguised as Haneul, you'd given me your address so we could walk there together, and that's how Seonghwa and I got you back home. We waited until your roommates arrived, put them under influence, and twisted the story. Because you were under a spell, you believed what they told you, and they believed it as well."

Wooyoung's brain feels like it's short-circuiting. With all the memories returning to him in a tidal wave, he nearly falls over with lightheadedness, only to be brought back up by Seonghwa. His breathing has calmed, but only because he feels like he's about to pass out. There's something keeping him conscious, though.

Answers. He needs more answers.

Denial. He doesn't want to believe it. It's a prank, right? Just like the stupid prank Yeoju pulled on him—

"And Wooyoung," San says, as if things couldn't get any more coincidental, "that money your coworker gave to you, the hundred thousand won that a customer left you? That was me. I gave it to Yeoju to give to you, but I put her in a daze that would wipe her memory after the fact."

Wooyoung finally connects the dots.

When he'd been on the pavement, bleeding from his neck, struggling to catch a glimpse of the culprit, he'd vaguely recognized this man's face. It was so familiar, but Wooyoung, overcome by pain, couldn't remember it for the life of him. But now that this same man is with him, in the flesh, right in front of him, Wooyoung recognizes him. He's the man who sits towards the front of the café near the biggest window with his mug of coffee, watching as the cars go by. He'd been there the day Wooyoung fell with the bin full of dishes. He'd seen Wooyoung's bad luck and offered him compensation.

"You," Wooyoung practically wheezes, "you're the Heart-Ripping Killer."

"Yes, Wooyoung. I am what everyone calls the Heart-Ripping Killer."

There are fingers on Wooyoung's temples, keeping him from falling unconscious. "Wooyoung, we need you to be with us," Seonghwa says from behind him. "I understand that it is very overwhelming, but you must hear us out."

"Seonghwa, wait," San interjects. "If he needs to faint, let him. Remember, he's only human."

 _He's only human?_ San says it as if he _isn't._

When he feels Seonghwa's fingers release his temples, Wooyoung's migraine takes over. His eyes flutter shut, his head pounding, and he finally falls over, though he doesn't know where he lands.

***

There's a human in San's bed.

He's resting, probably in an uncomfortable vortex of slightly (or not-so-slightly) traumatizing memories. His chest rises and falls with breaths that neither San nor Seonghwa take. His heartbeat has finally calmed into the ocean that San remembers it as. His eyes are peacefully closed, his facial expression neutral.

"So," Seonghwa says, arms crossed as the two stare down at the human, "what do we do when he wakes up?"

"Well, we have to tell him everything," San says matter-of-factly. "We didn't wipe his memory this time. He'll still remember everything when he wakes up."

"Mm. I apologize for trying to keep him conscious. I forgot that humans experience sensory overload and faint sometimes when situations become extremely stressful."

"I've actually never seen it happen. I mean, I knew it was a thing that happens, but like we both know, I don't interact with the living enough to know what it looks like," San says. "It looked... painful."

"He must have experienced a severe amount of mental anguish," Seonghwa states. "It overwhelmed his brain, and it shut off."

"Seems like it."

Wooyoung barely stirs in his sleep. He remains still with his back flat against the mattress with the occasional tic of the face. San wonders what Wooyoung is dreaming about, if at all. He's invaded human dreams before, twisted them to his liking, but has never dreamed himself because he doesn't sleep. He's seen what the human brain is capable of conjuring, but those sweet dreams San has seen never last. He takes them, makes them his, and feeds. He hasn't done it in a while, but seeing a sleeping human in his own home makes him wonder. And it's _Wooyoung_ of all humans.

He wonders just what Wooyoung is dreaming about.

"Seonghwa," San says, "I don't think we should mess with Wooyoung's head anymore."

"What do you mean?"

"Like, we shouldn't trance him, wipe his memories, things like that. I don't know how much of that he could take. Like, he'll go on with his life wondering how in the world he got those scars on his neck. No matter what happens... I don't think we should interfere with his memories anymore."

"San, that sounds like a very dangerous thing to do. Humans are fickle, Wooyoung is no exception. There is always the possibility of Wooyoung spreading your identity to the public, or even telling it to his friends. We had to bewitch them too, remember? Even if Wooyoung doesn't, his friends could."

"Then... we'll just have to convince him not to tell anybody."

Seonghwa frowns deeply, his brows creasing. "San, that is foolish and you know it."

San sighs in defeat. "Yeah, I know it is. But I don't know, I just don't think it's good to keep confusing the hell out of this guy. He didn't do anything wrong and he's caught up in all this shit." After a few moments of thought, San reaches a compromise. "Look, Seonghwa, if Wooyoung does tell people, _then_ we will wipe his memories and everyone he tells. But unless that happens, we don't touch his mind at all."

"That is very risky, San. Like I said, there are limits to what we can do, as invincible as we may be. If Wooyoung does tell people and the information becomes widespread, there are only so many memories we can wipe before the web grows too big to maintain."

"I get it," San acknowledges. "But if we, like, threaten him and tell him that we'll wipe his memory if he tells people, maybe that'll deter him from doing so."

"Using fear tactics such as that is almost as bad as actually wiping his memory."

"No, it isn't! It's so that he _won't_ tell people and that we _won't_ have to wipe his memory."

Seonghwa sighs, shutting his eyes. "He is your innocent, San. So I will leave it up to you to decide what we do with him."

"He's not my innocent!"

"Keep telling yourself that, San."

San scoffs, rolling his eyes as he turns back to look at Wooyoung. He hopes that, for both of their sakes, Wooyoung agrees to his compromise. Maybe, if Wooyoung hears him out and listens to what he has to say, why he does what he does, perhaps the human will understand.

San only perishes the hearts of humans who hurt other humans. Surely, Wooyoung will see something in that.

He had almost been a victim himself, after all.

***

Wooyoung wakes with a start, taking several seconds to absorb his surroundings and gather his brain and memories together while also thinking _where the hell am I, what's going on, did I die,_ and thoughts similar to those. But then he sees two figures standing in the room, shrouded by the natural shadows, and Wooyoung yelps in surprise. "Jesus fucking Christ!"

"We did not say anything," the one on the left says. Seonghwa, as Wooyoung remembers.

Right. San and Seonghwa. San, the one with blue in his bangs, otherwise known as the 'Heart-Ripping Killer,' who had saved him from being strangled to death. Seonghwa, his mysterious... partner of sorts who speaks in a really weird manner. "H-How long have you two been standing there?"

"As long as you have been unconscious, which was about two hours." Seonghwa's robotic tone is almost as scary as the fact that the man standing next to him is a serial killer.

Wooyoung raises an eyebrow. "You two have been watching me sleep for two hours?"

San shrugs. "We don't have much else to do."

Taking a deep breath, Wooyoung recollects his thoughts, all of his jumbled memories as he does his best to assort the pieces and put them together. He feels like he should be more panicked because he's in the room with a literal _serial killer,_ who rips the hearts out of his victims and eats them, who also has giant, animal-like claws...

"Hold the fuck up," Wooyoung says, scrambling backwards on the bed. "What the hell are you?" He directs the question at San. "You had claws, a-and you eat hearts. You're not..."

He doesn't want to say it.

"I'm not human," San finishes for him.

Oh god.

Wooyoung isn't really a believer in the occult. In fact, it's taking him quite a long time (several seconds) to dismiss the possibility that maybe he's hallucinating; maybe Dongsuk _did_ succeed in killing him and this is his purgatory, or his living hell, or whatever. That all he witnessed was just a fever dream. Maybe he's coming down with a really rare disease that warps his memories and makes him see shit.

But the bed beneath him feels too real, soft cotton sheets that smell heavily of vanilla, his limbs are still attached to his body and functioning, and he can feel the breaths he's taking. He's alive. This is real life.

And the man who's standing in front of him isn't human. From what Wooyoung can deduce, _neither_ of them are human.

"Then what are you?" Wooyoung asks, afraid of the answer.

"A demon," San answers casually.

Wooyoung nods slowly as he lets the term sink in. "Uh huh. A demon. Like, the things you see in movies that possess people and make their lives a living hell?"

"Not that kind of demon."

"There are kinds?"

San nods way too seriously. Okay, this has to be a fever dream. "I'm an incubus, to be exact."

Wooyoung has heard that term before. "Isn't that, like, a sex demon?' The bed suddenly feels a lot less soft.

"Yes, but I don't really indulge in that," San says. "Like you and plenty of others know, I eat hearts."

"Okay. A sex demon who doesn't have sex but eats hearts instead." Wooyoung feels like he's going to pass out again.

"Yes." San doesn't say anything else, like he expects Wooyoung to know what the fuck he's talking about, but with how much Wooyoung's head is swirling, trying to make sense of all the oncoming information, he might just pass out again. "I only eat the hearts of evil people," San adds on after several seconds of Wooyoung's silence.

Now _that_ catches Wooyoung's attention, but he's still confused as fuck. "If you're a demon, shouldn't it be the other way around?"

San lets out an amused chuckle, his eyes crinkling as he does. "You... have a point. But at least I'm doing the human world some good, don't you think?"

"Wait, hold on. We, uh, me and my roommates were talking about the Heart-Ripping Killer, uh, _you_ , one day, and Mingi, well, Yeoju actually, suspected that maybe the victims were all, like, sexual predators—"

"They're right," San interrupts, completely straight-faced. "At least, for the most part. Some have been murderers. Pedophiles. That sort of thing. The true scum of the Earth."

Well, Wooyoung can't really disagree with that. But this thing, man, demon, whatever, rips the hearts out of evil people's chests. From what Wooyoung knows, demons themselves _are_ evil. How the fuck does any of this make sense? "You're a demon," Wooyoung says, tone laced with doubt and suspicion even though he's pretty close to believing, "but you eat the hearts of rapists, pedophiles, and murderers."

"Yes." Meanwhile, Seonghwa just stands there, completely silent with a weirdly poised posture.

"And what about Seonghwa?" Wooyoung points to the strangely silent man.

"A reaper," Seonghwa speaks. "A demon who collects souls. San and I have been working together recently. I was there when Dongsuk was killed."

"Oh, so like, the Grim Reaper?"

Seonghwa frowns, and Wooyoung nearly reels backwards as he's seemingly struck a nerve. "The Grim Reaper is a single being conceived by humans that is a personification of death itself. It does not exist, but reapers do. When humans die, we absorb their souls or pass them along."

"Um." Wooyoung glances between San and Seonghwa, two demons as they claim. "I just... give me a moment. Or a million."

"Take your time," San says. "We're demons, so we can't die. We have all the time in the world."

The sentence makes Wooyoung shudder. So demons live forever. Just how old are San and Seonghwa? They don't look much older than Wooyoung; in fact, they look about the same age as him. They're creepily perfect and paler than the average person living in this country, with jawlines and bodies that models aspire to have, facial features that are those of celebrities who have gone through numerous plastic surgeries. "So," Wooyoung says when he finally feels like he can take a solid breath, "what are you two going to do with me? Why am I here?"

San and Seonghwa share a glance between each other, but San is the one to turn back first. "Like I told you, you deserved answers. We fucked up, leaving the barbed wire there. See, I'm not really used to... the living being anywhere near my kills. This was the first time anything like this has happened to me."

The living, right. Because San must carry out his kills alone with no one else around, but this time, Wooyoung had been the anomaly. "So we could not erase all the evidence of you being there," San continues. "We were at the café when the police came in and arrested you, and, well, you saw for yourself. We tranced the officers, told them to get rid of the evidence, and now, you're a free man."

"What about all the customers who saw what happened?"

"You have Seonghwa to thank for that." Seonghwa grins, raising his hand. "Seonghwa tranced all the customers in the café."

Wooyoung's eyes widen. "You can do that?"

Seonghwa nods, though it resembles a small bow. "I could sense San was about to intervene, so I did what had to be done."

"Like a true partner in crime," San jokes with a laugh.

"Quite."

"Okay," Wooyoung cuts in, "so, you two are demons. San, you eat the hearts of gross people."

"Gross is an understatement, but go on."

"Okay, _evil_ people. And Seonghwa, when San kills people, you eat their souls?"

San snickers as Seonghwa frowns again. "I do not _eat_ souls. I _reap_ them. There is a difference." San laughs even louder this time.

"I said the same thing, don't worry."

Wooyoung doesn't stop worrying.

"So... what am I doing here?"

San looks at him, seemingly confused. It makes Wooyoung think, _San_ is the one who's confused? There are two men claiming to be demons in the same room as him, and the room belongs to one of said demons. Out of all of them, San shouldn't be the one who's confused. "We couldn't just tell you the full story in the middle of the street, so we took you back here," San explains slowly, almost cautiously for some reason. "And I expect that you won't tell anybody about the things we've just told you."

"Um... no offense, but even if I did tell people, I really don't think anybody would believe me. The story sounds kind of insane to begin with. They'd probably throw me in a nuthouse."

San gawks at him, completely dumbfounded. "You... you really won't tell anybody?" Seonghwa looks just as flabbergasted.

Wooyoung shrugs. "I mean, it's like you said. Nobody remembers what happened, Dongsuk is dead, the police are going to erase my 'guilt,' so I don't see any reason why I should tell anybody."

"You are taking this quite well for a human who has just been told that demons exist," Seonghwa points out.

"I mean, you two seem cool." Wooyoung doesn't know where the hell these words are coming from. He's not sure if he's tranced or whatever these two do, but he's _relaxed_ for some reason.

Sure, San might eat people's hearts and Seonghwa might collect their souls, but they don't seem very threatening to _him_. When Wooyoung thinks about it, San has saved him _twice_ , once from death, once from incarceration. If demons aren't as evil as the films and books make them out to be, why should Wooyoung care? He's got classes and work to worry about.

"Cool?" Seonghwa practically whispers in awe.

"Cool. We seem cool," San says, deadfaced. "I eat human hearts, and I seem... cool."

"Well, like you said, you eat the hearts of evil people," Wooyoung says. "It's kind of cool. Like, do you guys know what _Dexter_ is?" The two demons shake their heads. "It's a TV show where this guy's a serial killer but he only kills the guilty. So like, a serial killer who kills serial killers, but he doesn't always kill serial killers. He just kills people who do bad shit. Like you, San."

San and Seonghwa share another skeptical look, their mouths slightly agape. Wooyoung doesn't know when he began to feel so calm, but the bed has started to gain its softness back. He's breathing normally again. He's not lightheaded, nor does he feel the urge to pass out. He feels _safe._ Maybe it's because this guy, demon, whatever, saved his ass. Twice.

"So... you're not scared?" San asks.

"Well, not gonna lie, the whole eating hearts and giant claws thing is pretty freaky, but... I don't know. You saved me with those claws, so I guess I'm not as scared as I normally would be." Wooyoung attempts an assuring smile.

"Wooyoung," San says, his voice sounding oddly impatient, almost frustrated. "Let's go over this again. I kill people and eat their hearts. Seonghwa reaps souls. We are demons. _Demons._ Creatures that humans don't even know exist."

"Yeah."

"Dongsuk attempted to strangle you with _barbed wire_ , and it left scars on your neck."

"Yeah, it kinda sucks, but I can just tell people that it was a joke. I kinda liked the silly studded belt story Seonghwa came up with. I do a lot of dumb shit, well, me and my roommates do, so I could just say they tried to strangle me while drunk."

"I ate a heart in front of you," San nearly growls, and _that_ takes Wooyoung aback.

"Well, when you say it all threateningly like that, yeah, it's mildly terrifying. But... you also _saved_ me. Twice." Wooyoung offers a tiny, grateful smile. "If you don't want me to tell anybody, that's the very _least_ I could do. Plus, it's not like you're killing innocent people."

San stares at him for a good fifteen seconds before he bursts into a fit of laughter, with Wooyoung following shortly after. Seonghwa doesn't laugh, but appears to be much less tense than before, his expression having softened. "Wooyoung, you are... a character," San says with a hint of his laughter. Wooyoung finds it endearing.

"I've been called worse."

A smile lingers on San's face, one similar to the one Wooyoung had seen before, but this time, it's bare of blood. It may be attached to a demon's face, but it looks undeniably human. Wooyoung thinks it's a nice smile.

Actually, Wooyoung thinks San is pretty good-looking, but he's not about to tell a demon that.

***

San's expectations have been crushed in the best way. Having Wooyoung acting so nonchalantly certainly threw him for a loop, and from what San can tell, from the way his heart beats, Wooyoung doesn't have any hidden intentions. He's calm, _too_ calm, but Wooyoung's heart speaks wonders with its ocean waves, his lungs sing him a tantalizing song that soothes San's nerves. He's not worried anymore.

Wooyoung is... fine. Completely fine.

"Wooyoung," San says, "I'm going to warn you. If you do tell somebody, I will not hesitate to wipe your memory again, along with whoever you tell."

"And I'm going to warn you, I'm not going to tell anybody," Wooyoung retorts playfully, breaking out into a grin.

San almost can't believe it. In his who-knows-how-many years of existence, he's never come across a human quite like this. Then again, San has only ever interacted with evil ones, and it usually ends up with their hearts torn from their chests.

"Buuut," Wooyoung drawls, his tone a little to lively for San's liking but endearing nonetheless, "I have a question."

"What is it?"

"Now that a human knows about your identities, how would you feel about getting to know some human identities?"

"I don't think I understand," San says, though deep down he thinks he might.

"Let's hang out sometime!"

If San were human and had the ability to pass out, he probably would.

"I—what?" San exclaims. He frantically looks to Seonghwa, who shrugs, looking just as bewildered.

"Yeah, let's hang out! You seem like a chill dude. Plus, it would be cool to learn more about the demon world. Is that a thing? The demon world? Like, does Hell exist?"

"I... I don't know what to say."

"Well, it's a yes or no question," Wooyoung says almost dismissively. "If you don't want to hang out, that's fine. I kinda get it, considering you're, y'know, not human and you probably have better, cooler things to do, but if you want to hang out, then great! We can watch movies and walk around, whatever you wanna do."

Speechless, San looks at Seonghwa again, but the reaper just lets out a heavy sigh. "I am... going to let you two handle this." Seonghwa exits the room, his footsteps completely silent, and vanishes into thin air behind the door so Wooyoung wouldn't see. It's the first time San has seen Seonghwa disappear like this. Still dumbfounded, San looks back at the human, who's smiling expectantly with wide, wondrous eyes.

This is a bad, bad idea. But it's oh so tempting.

As San stares at Wooyoung in disbelief, an innocent human with a heart of gold, ocean heartbeats and a melodious pair of lungs, he sees wonder, unobstructed by blood or tears or a piece of fucking barbed wire. San sees _Wooyoung_ , the clumsy busboy, the first human he's ever confided his true existence to.

"Okay," San says as confidently as he can. "I will hang out with you."

San has never seen a human smile so brightly before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well... yes, this is the direction this fic is going in.
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/galaxysangs)


	3. trēs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter contains a really graphic sadistic bloody sex scene, some dick eating, eye-gouging/eating, and tongue-cutting/eating
> 
> also if any names i use in this fic match those of any other idols i apologize. i literally don't even know the names of other idols so... yeah just ignore that shhhhh dont even comment on it

When San agreed to hang out with Wooyoung, he didn't know what to expect, but he certainly didn't expect Wooyoung to take him to his university campus. San has to admit, the scenery is nice, with lush greenery and colorful flora, and with the end of summer and beginning of autumn approaching, the greenest leaves will turn yellow and orange, a season that San has a certain fondness for. The university's trees are tall and abundant, and San can imagine leaves coating the walkways and pavements that worm through the campus, probably a bitch to clean but pretty nonetheless.

San doesn't have a problem with wandering the human world, as he's been on Earth for who-knows-how-many years, but he's never been to this campus before. Everyone walking around looks about Wooyoung's age, unsurprisingly, and in turn, everyone looks San's age as well. He fits right in, apart from having a backpack slung on his shoulders.

What's more, Wooyoung told him he has class until five, and it's three at the moment. The human has to go in for three-thirty, and had the audacity to tell San to wait a whole hour and a half for him so they could do more after school. While slightly annoying, San doesn't entirely mind since he's a demon with no real need to do anything else, so he will wait for Wooyoung to be done with class.

San hasn't seen Seonghwa since the reaper vanished from his apartment. Perhaps it's because Seonghwa doesn't want to roam the human world for the time being, which is understandable to San. Being at this university campus, "blending in" as a college student, is probably going to be the most San has ever actually had to do so. He's used to just wandering the streets for days, lying down atop abandoned buildings, and sipping coffee he can't taste. People pay no mind to him.

However, the students at this school appear to be close-knit despite it being a fairly large campus, because San gets dubious looks from everybody he passes. At one point, he leans into Wooyoung and whispers, "I think people are staring at me."

Wooyoung just shrugs. "You're a new face. Not to mention you're kind of... striking in terms of appearance."

"Striking?" San asks with a hint of mischief.

"I mean, you kind of look like an idol. You know, a celebrity."

"Haven't heard that before," San says.

"You don't really interact with people, so it stands to reason why you haven't heard that before."

San huffs. "Touché."

It stays that way until the pair reaches Wooyoung's classroom, where the human turns around and motions to the door. "Well, it's my time. Feel free to hang around campus wherever you want. I'll text you when I'm out. You have your phone right?"

San had prepared for this outing, so he actually did bring his phone with him. He pats his pocket, where the outline of his phone is prominent. "Yup."

"Well, uh, try not to eat any hearts while you're here," Wooyoung leans in and whispers.

"No promises," San replies with a wink.

When Wooyoung disappears into the lecture hall, San is finally hit with the realization that he's at a university campus _hanging out_ with a human who knows he's a demon who eats hearts, and said human is unafraid of walking beside him. Said human talks to San like he's a friend instead of a heart-eating murderer, which he _is_ , like San is just another, well, human. With the occasional banter as well. San has only ever bantered with Seonghwa before, and it's much different from Wooyoung's.

While Seonghwa's banter is amusing, his old mind makes it slightly irritating and cringey. San may not be on the same level of modernity that Wooyoung is, but even San knows what's cool and what's not in the human world, while Seonghwa is completely clueless. It makes him chuckle, thinking of the previous day where Seonghwa didn't even know what a macchiato was despite being on the Earth for what San assumes is at least a hundred years. He's pretty sure a macchiato existed during that time span.

Then there's Wooyoung, who may or may not be subtly flirting with him (or Wooyoung is doing it unknowingly and if so, San thinks that's kind of adorable), whose sense of humor makes it easy for him to joke about his heart-eating and demon status without worrying about being ratted out. Wooyoung talks to him like he's just another person. Human.

San doesn't really know how to feel about it, but he's admittedly enjoying Wooyoung's company so far.

The previous night, San waited for the rain to subside before he walked Wooyoung home. He left Wooyoung at the door in case either of Wooyoung's roommates would see him, not that it would've mattered much since neither of them remember San, but it was just a precaution. With how this whole thing is progressing, San isn't sure if he'll formally meet Wooyoung's roommates, but he figures he should mentally prepare himself in case he does. Wooyoung asked for his number, which he gave, and the human texted him that night just so he would have his number as well. Wooyoung then emphasized _bring ur phone to campus or i will be the one to eat your heart. if you have one._

San found that incredibly amusing. Not just the joke, but the fact that he used 'ur' and 'your' in the same text message.

This whole "fitting in" thing isn't difficult per se, but it's a bit unnerving, especially when San is used to the solitary existence of a heart-eating demon who kills humans, not hang out with them.

The realization of this whole situation feels like (or, what San thinks would feel like) a punch to the gut. He's talking to and walking side-by-side with a human. A human who knows his true identity. Who also seems to be enjoying his company, as fucked up as his existence may be.

What the fuck.

Well, whatever the case, San is here now, on a university campus with time to kill (no pun intended). He figures he'll start by studying the campus on paper a bit; on the way to Wooyoung's class, he'd seen a map of the campus displayed on the side of one of the pathways.

It's about five minutes away from Wooyoung's building. The location is marked with a 'you are here' sticker. He finds the building Wooyoung is in, the fine arts building, and it makes San wonder what Wooyoung's course of study is. He'd forgotten to ask.

As his eyes scan the map, he feels a heartbeat approaching, an innocent one that reminds San of pattering raindrops. A woman appears in his peripheral, one who is much shorter than him, dressed in a fuzzy white sweater and a black short skirt, and odd combination for summer, San thinks. "Um, hi," she squeaks.

San blinks, glancing to his left and right before he realizes the woman is talking to him. She's young, must be a student. "Oh, are you talking to me?"

"Yes! You, um, seem a little lost. Are you new?"

"No, I don't go here. Never been here, actually," San tells her honestly.

"Oh! Well, I could give you a tour if you'd like!" Her voice is like that of a mouse's squeaking, high-pitched and kind of irritating. San would like her to go away.

"Uh, I think I'm alright. I'm actually visiting a friend here, and he's going to give me the grand tour later once he's out of class."

The girl's face lights up. "Oh, what's his name? Maybe I know him."

Thoroughly annoyed, San tells her Wooyoung's name. "Oh, him? He's roommates with Jeong Yunho, right? Yunho's pretty popular on campus, like, the star student, nice to everyone, _and_ he plays soccer. I don't really know what he's doing being roommates with Wooyoung though. From what I know, Wooyoung's kind of... um, how should I put this? He's a special one."

San raises an eyebrow, remembering how Wooyoung had told him " _I've been called worse_ ," and now he's filled with curiosity. "What do you mean?"

"Wooyoung is nice and all, but he's just kind of... there. Like, whenever he's at a party he just kind of stands off to the side and doesn't interact with anybody. Kind of boring if you ask me. I'm surprised someone like you is friends with him."

"Someone like me?" At the question, San hears this girl's heart pick up as her eyes widen and a blush appears on her cheeks.

"Oh, um, well, you're really handsome." Her voice trails off at the end, her cherry lips curved up into a tiny smile. Her heart goes from the pitter-patter of rain to a solid downpour. She looks down, appearing coy, which San thinks is a form of flirting, but he is _not_ here for it. He is, however, quite curious.

He gazes into her eyes and listens as her heart drops. "And Wooyoung isn't?" he questions.

"He is," the girl says, her voice wavering and eyes blank, "but that's about it. He's really annoying, and a lot of people think he's hopeless because of how clumsy he is. He almost fell down the stairs in the science building. Like, how do you manage to accomplish that?"

"He's annoying? How so?" While San doesn't necessarily think Wooyoung is _annoying_ , he does talk a lot.

"He's just really weird and awkward," the girl says. "He doesn't really know how to talk to people besides his roommates, and he doesn't really have any other friends."

San frowns, though this girl's expression remains stagnant under his trance. He doesn't understand this girl's logic; if Wooyoung is both friends and roommates with Jeong Yunho, popular star student and athlete, that _says_ something about him. Not that he's annoying or awkward or anything of the sort.

This girl can go fuck herself, and that's exactly what San tells her.

"Enjoy yourself while doing it, though," he adds on. "Now go, I'm tired of listening to you talk."

Nodding, the girl turns on her heels without a word as she walks away from the scene. Rolling his eyes, San turns his attention back to the map and studies it more, finding the science building where Wooyoung supposedly almost fell down stairs. He can picture it, that poor thing, stumbling over his own two feet like he'd done with the bin of dishes. It's endearing, but San can see how it would be humiliating, especially to the point where people seem to think he's unworthy of being friends with a popular person.

San wonders if Wooyoung knows about the way people perceive him.

If he does, San would wipe everyone's memory.

\---

Time passes by quickly for San. He knows he can't say that about everyone, but it's how he's learned to go about his days. One minute, he's staring at the map, and the next, he's sitting on some random bench when his phone goes off in his pocket.

**[the human]**

_just got done with class! wanna come meet me or_

**[the demon]**

_yeah i'll come get you_

**[the human]**

_cool! don't eat any hearts along the way ;)_

San chuckles as he stands, feeling as if this is going to be an ongoing gag Wooyoung pulls.

It's when San is walking to the fine arts building that he hears a familiar heartbeat. One that speaks volumes, pounds in San's eardrums, knocking into his bones and everything else inside him. His entire body buzzes with excitement.

Psychotic. Pure evil.

With the amount of students walking around, San can't pinpoint exactly who the heartbeat belongs to, but they're definitely near, somewhere on this campus, and it makes him wonder if they're a student, lurking in the same hallways as Wooyoung. If Wooyoung knows this person or has seen them before. If Wooyoung knows their name.

The heartbeat gradually evaporates the closer San gets to Wooyoung's building, leaving him disappointed yet relieved, because now, at least Wooyoung will be with him, but he's also lost track of the heartbeat. He finds himself wanting to hear it again, find out who it's coming from, and have it all to himself.

Students begin to file out of the classroom while San waits by an adjacent wall. He's surprised when Wooyoung's eyes land straight on him, like he knew he was standing there or something. "San! How was your little exploration of the campus?" the human calls out, bounding over to San's side.

"I didn't explore," San says, chuckling. "I looked at a map of the campus and sat on a bench until you texted me."

"What?" Wooyoung's mouth drops open dramatically. "You had an entire hour and a half to do whatever, and you looked at map of campus and sat on a bench."

"Yeah."

Wooyoung sighs, then bursts into laughter. "San, you really need to get out more. Come on." He grabs onto San's wrist, guiding him out of the fine arts arts building and back onto the paved walkways of the university campus. "Let's go to dinner tonight or something. My treat."

"Dinner?"

"Yes, dinner."

San stops walking, feet planted firmly on the ground, which causes Wooyoung to halt abruptly. "What?" Wooyoung says, sounding slightly dejected.

"Wooyoung, I'm a demon in case you forgot." San steps closer to him, hushing his voice. "Human food doesn't do anything for me. I can't even taste it."

"So... you don't eat anything besides hearts?" Wooyoung questions, though it doesn't sound like a running gag anymore. A genuine question, rather. It comes out small, almost timidly.

San shakes his head and offers the human a smile. "No, I don't. I mean, I can, but like I said, it doesn't do anything."

Wooyoung's nose scrunches. "So when you drink coffee—"

"I can't taste it, and I don't feel hot or cold either. I know the coffee is hot, but it's not something I can feel. I don't burn or anything like that."

"So does that mean you can't feel pain either?"

"Yeah." San watches Wooyoung's face go through a variety of emotions, from confusion to disappointment to confusion again, then he _smiles_. He tugs on San's wrist again, motioning his head to signal San to follow him again. Puzzled, San starts moving again, eventually ending up by Wooyoung's side instead of behind him. The human doesn't let go of his wrist.

As they walk, Wooyoung speaks. "So you don't feel things humans do. Can you feel my hand?" he asks, squeezing San's wrist.

"Yeah, I can feel it physically touching my skin, but I can't feel its temperature. Humans are supposed to feel warm, right?"

"Supposed to, yeah, but some people get cold easily. I run warm, so my hands and the rest of my body is pretty warm even when it's cold outside. Well, as long as I have gloves. My hands aren't going to be a fireplace if they're exposed to the freezing cold for a while."

Damn, Wooyoung really does talk a lot.

"Well," San says, "even if I can't taste anything, we can still go to dinner if you want. You'd just be the one tasting the food."

Wooyoung's face lifts at that, mouth expanding into a wide, joyous smile. Do humans really love food that much, or is it just Wooyoung? "That would be awesome! I mean, I don't have a lot of money, so we can just grab something quick—"

"No worries, Wooyoung." San picks his wallet out from his back pocket. "Remember the hundred thousand won I left you?" Wooyoung nods, eyes widening as he remembers it. "I have a lot more where that came from."

"You don't work! How do you—" Wooyoung stops himself, then laughs at his own incomprehension. "Oh, right. Demon ways."

San smirks. "You got it."

Wooyoung pouts a frown, hand tightening around San's wrist. "I mean, even if we went somewhere nice to eat, I'd feel bad being the only one getting something out of it. I wish I could give you, like, a blood bag or something. Do demons drink blood like vampires do? Do vampires exist?"

San just smiles, shaking his head as he removes himself from Wooyoung's grip and replaces it with his own instead, catching the human off guard. "Come on, Wooyoung," he says, tugging Wooyoung along this time. "Point me in the direction of your favorite restaurant. I'll take you there."

He walks ahead of the bewildered human, not even bothering to look back. He can imagine Wooyoung's face, eyes full of wonder and astonishment, maybe a small smile. "It's, um, a bit of a walk," Wooyoung says from behind him.

"I don't mind. I have all the time in the world, remember?"

***

Wooyoung's favorite restaurant is this place that Yunho and Mingi took him to one time last year for his birthday. His roommates splurged that day, assuring him that it was their treat no matter how much it was, and to his surprise, they owned up to it. They had enough money to pay the bill _and_ take him out to dessert afterwards. Wooyoung recorded that day as one of the best days of his life, and he honestly can't tell if that's normal or just plain sad.

Whatever. The place has some damn good steak.

While Wooyoung doesn't know how much money San actually has, his manner going into the restaurant is confident. San even _looks_ expensive with his black button-down and black skinny jeans (without rips) and black ankle boots that all just spell classy (or demon, but it's not like anybody can tell that from looking at him. Besides, if wearing black made people demons, goths be damned). Perhaps Wooyoung should have gone home and changed first, but he's casually well-dressed enough, a plaid flannel and his best pair of black skinny jeans (also without rips!) with a pair of some fairly worn Converse. Good enough.

To "fit in," in San's words, he tells Wooyoung that he'll eat despite not being able to taste anything, but Wooyoung still can't help but feel guilty, knowing that he's practically dragging a demon to places that he won't even enjoy. Then again, what _do_ demons enjoy? What do they even _do_?

San tells him to order "whatever his beating heart desires," which makes Wooyoung blush as he browses the menu for the steak he'd had last time he was here. It was an expensive slice of meat from what Wooyoung remembers, tender and flavorful and rare, and it makes him wonder if San can taste blood even if it's from animals. He asks, and San simply shrugs and says he doesn't know because he's never tried it.

Wooyoung orders his steak rare.

San orders spicy chicken, _extra_ spicy as he tells the waiter. As the waiter walks away with their orders, Wooyoung looks at the demon, amused. "Extra spicy, huh? You trying to show off or something?"

"Not being able to feel heat or pain isn't exactly 'showing off.' I just figured I'd freak people out a bit. Imagine that waiter watching me eat this extra spicy chicken, completely straight-faced, not even breaking a sweat. Wouldn't that be kind of funny?"

"Honestly, yeah, kinda."

San chuckles, leaning back against his seat. "I ordered Seonghwa an extra hot macchiato back at the coffee shop, and he downed the drink in one go. I told him he could've at least taken his time since we were kinda trying to blend in, but that ancient bastard went ahead and downed a drink that would easily burn the inside of a human's mouth like it was nothing."

"So basically, order food and drinks that humans wouldn't dare to eat or drink, eat or drink them, and freak everyone out."

"Yup."

Wooyoung breaks into a wide grin. "I like that."

"I'm glad you find it amusing," San says with an equally amused smile.

"So, like, you eat hearts. What do they taste like?" Wooyoung asks. "I know blood tastes metallic... I think. I don't know, whenever I have a nosebleed some of it gets down my throat and it tastes metallic 'cause there's iron and stuff in there. Does it taste metallic to you?"

"Wooyoung," San says, still smiling, "I can't taste anything, therefore, I can't describe how hearts taste."

Realizing how dumb his question was, Wooyoung visibly cringes. "Oh. Right. Well, how about this? What does it feel like, eating human hearts? Like, when humans eat really good food, they get all happy and excited, y'know? I'd imagine it's the same way with you. And is it like, the eviler the heart is, the better it tastes? Or... feels?"

While Wooyoung runs his mouth, San just gazes at him with a longstanding smirk. "It's similar, yes," the demon answers. "If I eat an evil heart, it satiates me and my hunger, and it gives me energy. Eating a heart is... euphoric. And it's like you said, the eviler the heart, the more I get out of eating it. More energy, more euphoria. And like I said before, I can't describe what a heart tastes like because I have nothing to compare it to."

Wooyoung blinks, his brain's gears rattling at a hundred miles an hour trying to process this new information, things that he never thought he'd know because he didn't even know demons exist. And now, he knows that demons exist and they can't feel shit. When he thinks about it, he can't even describe how human food tastes to San because he doesn't even know what the tastes _are._ He may know that spicy is something that makes humans want to die and that hot things burn the inside of humans' mouths, but he will never be able to feel that. Wooyoung can't even begin to describe his love for sweets and desserts because he literally _can't._ Sweet may be a well-known adjective among humans, but the word holds no value to San.

"If you can't taste anything, can you at least feel their textures?"

San arches an eyebrow, tilting his head curiously. "Textures?"

"Well, you said you could feel my hand on your wrist earlier when I squeezed it. You might not have been able to feel warmth, but you could feel it. Can you feel food in your mouth, even if you might not be able to taste it or feel it's temperature?"

The question seems to baffle San, as his brows scrunch in thought. "I don't... I've never considered that."

"When you eat a heart, it's soft, right? Since it's all tissue and liquid and stuff. It's easy to bite." San nods. "I mean, even though humans don't have fangs, we can probably bite into a heart easily. Wait a second, do you have fangs?"

The amused smirk returns to San's face. "Yeah, I do. Though I'd rather not bring them out at the moment."

"Understandable. Anyway, so hearts are soft. You can feel that coffee is liquid when you drink it, even if you can't feel it's hot, right?" Again, San nods to Wooyoung's question. "When you eat hearts, are they easy to chew? Do you have to chew it at all, or can you just kind of drink it down like you drink coffee? Things like that. Not really taste, but how things _feel_ in your mouth, minus the temperature." Wooyoung smiles, pleased with his comparisons.

San, on the other hand, continues to look at him with a puzzled expression as if he's never taken the time to think about these things. Perhaps he's having some sort of existential crisis, if those are a thing demons are capable of having. "Hearts are... easy to chew. They go down easily, but not as easily as pure liquid does. They almost seem to, erm, melt in your mouth, if that makes sense."

"Yeah! Like a really tender piece of steak. Easy to chew, basically melts in your mouth. Though I feel like hearts would be a lot easier to chew versus a piece of animal meat... but then again, hearts _are_ animal meat since humans are animals. But, like, okay, hearts are warm because they come from the inside of a human, and the inside of a human is naturally warm. When something is warm, it breaks down more easily."

"Is that so?"

"Maybe not entirely scientifically correct, but usually. Oh, god, I just thought of ice cream! Ice cream is cold, but it melts when it's warm. So when someone eats ice cream, it melts in their mouth because the inside of a mouth is warm."

"Mm."

"You know what, forget everything I just said." Wooyoung chuckles nervously, an awkward smile on his face. He's aware that he talks too much sometimes, and he's sure that San probably thinks losing his hearing along with all of his other lack of senses would be a good thing now.

But San is looking at him with a smirk and inquisitive eyes, seemingly intrigued by his words. "I'm sorry," Wooyoung apologizes meekly, bowing his head. "I know I talk a lot."

"It's okay." San's smile grows into one of sympathy. "You brought up a lot of good points. I never really thought about things like that because they were never important to me. Human food isn't important to me because I can't taste it and I don't gain anything from it, but you did make me think a lot about it."

Wooyoung shrugs, still feeling a bit embarrassed. "I just figured since you can't feel temperature, maybe you can feel other things."

"That's true. I can feel other things," San says. "Like you mentioned, I could feel your hand on my wrist earlier, but as I said, I couldn't feel if you were warm or cold." The demon pauses for a moment, a thought appearing on his face. "Wooyoung... what was I? Was I warm or cold?"

Wooyoung glances down at San's hand, resting near the edge of the table, and wordlessly takes it in his. San's eyes follow his hand, where he gently slots his fingers underneath. It's a strange sensation, feeling San's hand. Wooyoung remembers it being cold from when he was being dragged along in the rain, rough to the touch as well, but perhaps it stands to reason. It's not like demons pay attention to whether they need lotion or not. But now that Wooyoung's feeling it again in a much more tame environment, it isn't cold, but it isn't warm either.

It isn't warm like a human's is, but it isn't freezing as Wooyoung would have expected a hand belonging to a lifeless creature to be. It's somewhere in the middle, like touching an inanimate object at room temperature. "It's neither, honestly," he says. "It's neither warm nor cold. But I guess that's a good thing. Nobody likes to touch things that are too hot or too cold. Like, I could hold your hand and be completely fine with it, though you could use some lotion, no offense."

"Lotion?"

"You know, stuff you put on your hands to make them softer?"

San frowns, retracting his hand from Wooyoung's light grip and examining his palms. He touches his own hands, back and front, apparently focused. "I... was not aware that my hands were rough to the touch. I never really paid attention."

"Can you feel that they're rough?"

"Y-Yeah," San says. "But, um, lotion is made for humans. So I don't think it would work on me."

Wooyoung shrugs, completely indifferent. San's hands aren't so rough that they're unpleasant to feel, but it's definitely a sign of being well-used. After all, he does plunge his hands into people's chests and rips their hearts out. He imagines blood isn't exactly the best moisturizer.

When their food arrives, Wooyoung's face immediately brightens at the smell. Of course, he's well aware that San can't smell it, but the demon is smiling nonetheless as his dish is placed in front of him. Wooyoung can _feel_ the spice radiating off of the dish; the steam is enough to make his eyes water, and the sauce is a shade of orange-red that just spells trouble and indigestion. It mingles nicely with the aroma of his steak, though.

Slicing into his steak, Wooyoung pokes at it with a fork and holds it out to San. "Here, try it." San obliges, taking the bite of steak, and chews it thoughtfully. "So, how is it in comparison to eating a heart?"

"It's... a bit more difficult to chew," San says with his mouth full, "but not by much. And it's as expected; I don't taste anything."

"Well, yeah. But textures are a good place to start, don't you think?"

San hums in consideration, stabbing into his _extra spicy_ chicken with his fork and taking an unbothered bite. Wooyoung watches in awe as San shoves a whole piece of _extra spicy_ chicken into his mouth, chewing it like it's nothing (because it is, to him at least), swallowing it while looking completely unperturbed. Not even a huff of pained air, but then again, Wooyoung is sure San doesn't even need to breathe. "You could probably win a lot of money if you entered eating competitions or something," Wooyoung points out, shoveling another piece of steak into his mouth.

"That's too easy," San says with his own mouth full. "Besides, I'd rather not draw _that_ much attention to myself. Hanging out with you is enough."

"Enough attention?"

"I don't get out much, you know."

"Well, neither do I. But... I guess, as a demon, you probably get out way less. Are you, uh, worried about being seen with me? Or like, worried about fitting in?"

"Not so much being seen with you, no. I'm not particularly worried about fitting in because I know I have the appearance of a human and can behave as such, but there's always a risk that comes with existing among humans."

"Are you afraid of that risk?"

San snorts, almost rolling his eyes. "I don't fear anything."

"Then why bring it up?" Wooyoung questions, eyes brimming with curiosity.

"Well... call it anticipation, I guess. I mean, after what happened with you, I'm a bit more on edge than usual. Just looking out for things, that's all."

"Such as?"

"You really do ask a lot of questions, Jung Wooyoung."

Wooyoung smiles innocently, batting his lashes. "It's the best way to get to know somebody. Oh, speaking of which, since you just called me by my full name, what's yours?"

"What do you mean?" San blinks blankly, like he really doesn't know. Do demons not have full names?

"You know, your last name? Do you even have one?"

San shakes his head. "No. I'm just San. Nothing else."

When Wooyoung looks at San, he doesn't see a demon unless he thinks about the way San stood over him, black claws and blood after eating a human heart, but even then, beneath the bloodstains, Wooyoung had seen a smile. No fangs, just lips curved up into a sympathetic smile. The person in front of him, San, is a demon no doubt, but to Wooyoung, he looks human. With blunt, flesh-colored nails and a bloodless face, San appears entirely human.

Wooyoung thinks there is a lot more to San than just his name and the fact that he's a demon, but that's all San makes himself out to be.

"Well, anyways, you didn't answer my question." Wooyoung smirks, taking another bite. "What kinds of things are you looking out for when you're with me?"

San's face turns grim as opposed to his amused smirk, immediately sending Wooyoung's own skin cold. The demon locks his eyes down at his plate, silent, as the unanswered question lingers in the air. "Are you... are you worried about me being attacked again or something?" Wooyoung asks.

San shakes his head. "No, it's not that." He doesn't look up. "There's just... there are always evil people walking around, Wooyoung. People you wouldn't expect to be evil. People who appear innocent, but have the worst intentions deep down." Wooyoung notices San suck his bottom lip in. "The other day, I heard a truly evil heartbeat."

"What do they sound like?" Wooyoung sets his fork down, immersed, and slightly less hungry.

"Irregular. Erratic. Whereas heartbeats of innocents, like you, sound calm, evil people's hearts beat at different speeds, and they have their own... edge. I don't know how to describe it. They just sound different." Wooyoung nods, barely grasping the concept but curious nonetheless. "I heard the same heartbeat today, while I was waiting for you to be done with class. Whoever it belonged to was walking around your university campus."

It feels as if Wooyoung's heart stops in that moment, where his chest tightens and his breath is knocked from his lungs. He wonders if San could sense it. The death of Min Dongsuk, who was a student at a neighboring university, was enough to shake Wooyoung to the core, made him realize that the killer was nearby, but even though he knows the killer's true identity now, it still makes his skin erupt in goosebumps, knowing that there's somebody evil that close. "Do... do you know if it's a student?" Wooyoung rasps, his voice apparently knocked out of his system as well.

"I don't know," San says. "I couldn't tell who it belonged to, but it was really, really evil. Sadistic, psychotic, you name it. This person has the worst intentions."

"You can really tell that just from hearing a heartbeat?" San nods. "Then... are you going to eat this guy's heart?"

"Yes." San doesn't even hesitate.

Wooyoung then realizes the weight of the situation. San, a demon, isn't going to stop eating hearts. Wooyoung, a human, knows that the so-called 'Heart-Ripping Killer' is the person in front of him, and whenever a news report is released announcing the death of a victim, with their hearts torn from their chest, Wooyoung will know who did it.

Even though San appears human in front of him, he is not. Far from it.

"Wooyoung," San says, "I know it must be unnerving, being around me."

"Um... not gonna lie, it is a little bit," Wooyoung admits, his appetite long gone. "It's just something I have to get used to."

"Wooyoung, you know that you don't _have_ to hang out with me. You don't have to be around me. In fact, it might be better if you don't—"

"But I want to," Wooyoung interrupts, already feeling the hairs on his neck stand, his face heating up. He can feel his heart speed up as well, a certain kind of nervousness settling into his bones. Sure, San may be a heart-eating killer, a _demon_ , but he's also one of the only people to treat him like he's _someone_.

Someone who doesn't just ramble on. Someone who isn't weird or quirky or not worth talking to. San listens to him talk with a smile, seemingly intrigued by his rants and senseless babbling, and he actually seems to hear him out. Sometimes, even though Yunho and Mingi are his only friends, they don't entirely listen to him.

"I really do want to hang out with you," Wooyoung mumbles, his head hanging in embarrassment, but that's not a new feeling. Humiliation runs through his veins, so much so that he's grown used to it. A constant state of embarrassment where he shies himself away, hangs his head low, and keeps quiet. He doesn't even know how he became so bold to even _ask_ a demon to hang out with him. He just did it on a whim, thinking that maybe, _maybe_ this demon saw something in him.

After all, this demon saved him twice.

San sighs, his mouth twitching like he wants to smile. "Your heart is really pure, Wooyoung."

The declaration makes Wooyoung giggle. "Pure? I wouldn't say that."

"Well, maybe not pure by your definition. But your heart beats smoothly. You mean well, Wooyoung, even if you may not receive the same sentiment you give."

Wooyoung can feel his anxious heart ease at San's words, but in turn, he shrinks in further, shoulders sagging, and he wants nothing more than shrivel up into a ball. He sort of wishes he were a turtle so he can retract his entire body into a shell and not come out.

He also sort of wants to burst into tears, but he's not about to cry in front of a demon. San would probably laugh at him. So he swallows his shame, takes a deep breath, and looks back up.

San is smiling at him again. It makes his heart flutter, and he wonders if the demon can hear that.

***

When San leaves Wooyoung at his door, he flees before the human's roommates can catch a glimpse of him. He's on a mission now, because on the way back to Wooyoung's apartment, he heard the heartbeat again.

This person is so close, San can feel the heart on the tip of his tongue.

He retraces his steps. The heartbeat was so loud, the loudest he's heard it so far, making him wonder if they passed by this person on the way. It's still there, but it's faint. If he just hones in on the inconsistent beats, he will find them. He _will_ find them.

San always gets his way.

He tucks himself away down a secluded pathway that reaches a dead end, not a living space in sight, and transforms. His succubus form, now female with an electric-blue bob and fishnets and a tight leather dress, strolls back out onto the deserted streets in the direction of civilization, where he's certain this villain is roaming.

As San approaches the more busier streets, he can feel all the eyes of males and females alike on him and his short skirt, long legs and high heels, strutting like he owns the city. In some ways, he really does. Humans will drop to their knees if he so desires. His alluring appearance and ability to appear as whoever he wants is just a bonus.

The hunt is no different from most. San can hear the heartbeat clearly now; the owner is close, so close. Oddly enough, it's at a dingy bar that takes San a bit more time to get to, this street being slightly less busy, and for good reason. It's not in the middle of nowhere, but it's definitely an unfamiliar, less populated area. When San stops at the entrance of the bar, the heartbeat rings so loudly in his ears that he can feel his fingertips trembling beneath his human nails.

He walks in, and the sound is deafening. It doesn't take him long to find the culprit.

He's _young._ A young face, with just a hint of baby fat left, soft eyes and smooth skin. His hair is dyed a light brown, his appearance neat but not flashy. He doesn't appear wealthy like San's previous victims, but he's well put together. Judging by his looks, San wouldn't be surprised if this person really is a student at Wooyoung's university. He's sitting at one of the tables with a group of friends, sharing a plate of appetizers and beer.

San wonders how a person so young could have such a tainted heart.

He's laughing along with all of his friends, all unfamiliar faces but similar in age. College friends, San assumes. There's seven including the villain, all of which are male.

In San's succubus form, this should be easy.

A bell chimes above San's head as he pushes past the rickety door, signaling his entrance. Most of the patrons turn their heads, including a few of the people at the villain's table, but San pays them no mind, already sliding into a seat at the bar without a single word. With his naturally seductive aura, people at these sorts of places tend to flock towards San at different times of the night. Sometimes it depends on their level of intoxication, but San has no desire to lay down the innocent hearts, so he turns them away. He waits until the perpetrators approach him, and _then_ he will strike. It's one after the other.

The first to approach him is a man who seems to be slightly older than him, maybe in his late twenties or early thirties. San can smell the cigarette smoke on him with something else unpleasant mixed in. San looks him in the eyes, listening as the pin drops, and says, "No."

The man leaves the bar entirely.

Rolling his eyes, San swivels the stool in the direction of the bar, orders a glass (a _glass_ ) of vodka. The bartender, partially dazed, gives him an odd look but pours him the glass anyway and doesn't stop until San tells him to. The glass ends up being just a little more than half full.

"Do you see that?" San hears one of the men at the table say.

"Holy shit, is she going to drink all of that?"

San _was_ planning on sipping it slowly while he waits for people to approach him, but he smirks to himself, toying with these men's words, holds the glass up to his lips, and gulps the vodka down. He hears the hearts pick up, the blood rushing, a few gasps here and there from people San can't distinguish. He swallows it all down, not wincing once, smacking his lips as he gently places the glass back down. The bartender gawks at him.

"Miss," he speaks, "are you alright?"

San blinks lazily at him, smiling. "Just peachy."

Now fully entranced, the bartender nods. "Now pour me another, would you? Make it _hard_." Wordlessly, the bartender takes his glass, holding it with his elbow at a right angle with his posture rigid and straight. San watches in amusement. His trances do extraordinary things sometimes.

He stares at his nails while he waits, painted a glossy black, pointy but not deadly. His go-to nails are usually stilettos anyway, as he finds the look of almost-claws appealing; plus, they're close enough to his actual claws, just significantly shorter and less sharp. But close enough.

The footsteps that approach him first are heavy but not those of the owner. His heart is pure, beating much like Wooyoung's, but it's much firmer, like that of an athlete. It's determined, strong, healthy. This person takes care of himself. When he turns to look at his suitor, it's another young one with cute chubby cheeks yet broad shoulders. Definitely an athlete. He sits at the stool next to him, a playful smile on his face.

"I saw you down that drink," he says, sounding thoroughly impressed. "You took it like it was nothing. Was it water?"

San grins as the waiter puts down another (full) glass in front of him, the appearance of the drink some sickly shade of brown. The man's nose curls at the sight of it. "Wow, what is that?"

"Don't know," San says, grabbing the drink and gulping down a quarter of the glass while the human watches in both horror and amazement. "I just like hard drinks."

"You... you're gonna get alcohol poisoning or something."

San laughs at that, his succubus voice honeysuckle-sweet with an edge, gazing into this human's eyes and luring him. "Tell me, what's your name?"

"Choi Jongho," the human answers, his tone normal but eyes dull.

"Mm. Alright, Jongho. Who's your friend over there, the one with the light brown hair?"

"His name is Jaewon." The answers to San's questions while under trance are always straightforward.

"What does he think of me?"

"He thinks you're gorgeous," Jongho says. "He wants to come over to talk to you, but he doesn't know how to go about it."

"Well, tell him to come over and talk to me. I don't bite." San laughs at himself internally.

Nodding, Jongho gets up while San turns back around, fingers curled around his glass. The heavy heartbeat approaches, bursting in his ears like fireworks, sweet, sweet music to his ears. The sound of pure evil. The sound of a delectable, devilish heart.

"My friend told me to come talk to you," Jaewon speaks, his voice like that of a fallen angel.

Jaewon is attractive, but he's nowhere near Dongsuk's level. He has an innocent face, childlike eyes that gleam through his light brown contacts that almost match his hair. It makes San wonder what it would look like twisted in pain when he realizes his heart will be torn out.

San can already feel his mouth watering.

"What's your name?" Jaewon asks. Even his voice sounds innocent.

"Call me whatever you'd like." San looks past his contacts, into the window of the soul, and sees nothing but darkness.

"Okay, Minha."

_Minha?_

"Care to tell me... why you chose Minha?"

Jaewon blinks, his mouth in a straight line, his evil heart drowning in San's trance. "Minha was my sister. I miss her."

"What happened to her?"

"I killed her."

San can't help but burst out laughing. Jaewon, helplessly captured in San's petrifaction, remains silent, his heart a mere hammering as opposed to the fireworks San had heard before. He wants to get it beating again.

"Why, pray tell, did you do that?" San asks, coming down from laughter.

"Because I wanted to."

"Does anybody know?"

"No."

San can't help the smile on his face. The things that his trances bring out in people, the things that he can force people to say without them knowing. Jaewon, a college student who has killed his sister. "You killed your sister, but you miss her? How twisted are you?"

"I miss her every day," Jaewon says, his voice faltering slightly. "I wish she would come back... so I can kill her again." There is a hint of thrill that breaks through the trance, his lips twitching like he wants to smile.

San's excitement overpowers him as he stands abruptly, grabbing Jaewon's wrist and pulling him up to stand with him. "You are quite something, Jaewon," he says. If San had a beating heart, it would be bursting out of his chest. "I want you. Do you want me?"

"Yes," Jaewon answers with a nod.

His heart thumps solidly at his answer. "Do you... want to kill me?" San asks.

"Yes."

"Then let's go," San says, tugging Jaewon's wrist along. Jaewon follows obediently, of course.

Before San goes, he can hear a vague whisper calling his name.

_"Go, San. I will handle the rest."_

If God exists, let Him bless Seonghwa.

\---

It's such a familiar space. Motels are quite the spot for questionable things to happen, affairs, drug deals, prostitution, sketchy hookups. Murder, rarely. But with how often San comes through, he's sure that the rate will increase tenfold.

As soon as he gets into the room and pushes Jaewon inside, he wipes the trance.

The human blinks several times as he gathers his bearings, allowing San to bask in the crescendo of his evil heart resurfacing. At the sight of San, his eyes widen, his jaw dropping. "You... Minha. You're not Minha."

"That's what you wanted to call me, dear."

"You're not Minha! You lied to me!"

With his bellowing voice, San silences the room with a flick of his finger, while the other pokes Jaewon's chest, nudging him forward until his calves hit the bed. "I didn't lie to you in the slightest, my dear. _You_ were the one who wanted to call me Minha. Minha's dead, remember? You killed her, and you wish you could kill her again."

Jaewon stands still in shock, a nervous sweat breaking out on his forehead, his heart pumping at an incredible pace, one that makes San want to tear into his chest already. The human's face twitches, out of anger, denial, psychosis, _whatever_ , the sight of it is _delicious._ San could watch it on replay all day. His Adam's apple bobs in his throat, his fists clenched. All the while, San can hear it all. The sweat forming on his skin, the pounding of his heart, blood rushing through his arteries and veins. San drinks it all in.

"You said you wanted to kill me, right?" San taunts, stepping forward until his body is pressed against Jaewon's. "Then kill me. _After_ we have some fun first."

With his palm flat against Jaewon's chest, San pushes him onto the bed with one blow, climbing on top of him with no hesitation.

And that's when Jaewon smiles.

"You want to play that game?" he asks, his voice crackling; _finally_ , he's breaking now that he has competition. Somebody who can hold him down like this, make _him_ feel inferior. Somebody he would be ecstatic to kill once he's able to overpower them. Somebody, in such a hypothetical situation, he would be proud to kill.

However, it's not his game, and it's not his playing field.

Everything in this room, including Jaewon, belongs to San.

"Of course," San challenges, his hands clamping down on Jaewon's shoulders. "Let's play."

Sensing Jaewon's intentions, he lets the human take him over as he seizes San's hips, flipping him over onto his back. San can't even count the seconds this time; Jaewon grips onto the bust of San's dress and tears it open, exposing his breasts, and as soon as he's exposed, something ignites in him that he hasn't felt in a long, long time.

The sex demon in him is crawling underneath his skin, waiting to explode.

It's everywhere. All of Jaewon's energy, his heartbeat, his sweat, his raging hormones, _everything_ is flooding into San all at once. San is _feeding_ , truly _feeding_ as he is meant to. His fingertips are throbbing, his claws itching to surface, but he wills it away as he lets Jaewon rip the rest of his dress all the way down the middle. "No panties, huh?" Jaewon questions.

"Couldn't be bothered," San replies lazily. "Now shut up and fuck me."

"You're such a filthy _whore_ ," Jaewon growls, hauling San up by the armpits until his head collides with the bedframe. "Wanting to get fucked before you get killed. What kind of masochistic slut are you?"

"And what kind of sadistic murderer are _you_ , killing your own sister and wishing you could kill her all over again? You—"

Though it doesn't bother San in the slightest, Jaewon's hand latches onto his throat. He can feel it squeezing, but with San needing no air, he feels no pain, nothing of the sort, and smiles sadistically as he can feel the grip tighten. "You... do _not_ talk about my sister, you twisted bitch."

" _You_ were the one who told _me_ ," San says smoothly, voice completely unaffected by Jaewon's hand. "Your poor sister. I wonder if she's rotting in Hell right now."

San imagines she isn't. San imagines that Minha was an innocent, a pure heart unlike her brother's who had her life taken much too soon from someone she probably trusted. San imagines that Jaewon is nothing like her, that maybe that's why Jaewon killed her. Out of jealousy, malice, or just plain insanity.

But the sentence seems to spur him on as he shoves two fingers inside San, laughing as he does so. "You're wet as fuck. You get off on this shit?"

San hadn't even realized. He doesn't feel it at all, nor does he really feel Jaewon's fingers moving around inside him. He simply grins wildly, grabbing onto Jaewon's forearm and forcing his fingers deeper inside. "I guess I do. But I don't feel shit with just your fingers, love."

"You want my dick that badly?" Jaewon pulls his fingers out, and San watches as he spreads them, a string of come forming between them.

"Get it in me or I'll kill you myself." San giggles, pressing his heel against Jaewon's crotch and watching as the human's face distorts with discomfort.

 _San_ will _kill him himself._

With all shredded clothes disposed of, Jaewon clutches both of San's wrists in his hands, pinning them up against the bedframe. San's wetness makes it easy to push inside him all at once, and _that's_ when San can feel it. His entire body is tingling, lighting aflame with pure sexual energy; _this_ is how he was made to feed. Jaewon's hips slap disgustingly against San's, all while the demon's tongue is clinched between his teeth, a sadistic smile on his face. "You're _enjoying_ this?" Jaewon questions, his thrusts deep and rough, surging through San's body.

"Of course," San replies, his jaw slightly agape, showing off his tongue. "Come in me. Want to feel it."

"Tch, you're _disgusting_."

"You're _evil._ "

Jaewon cackles at that, one of a true psychopath, someone truly evil. If only the human knew the real weight of that word.

When Jaewon comes inside him, his entire back arches off of the bed with the power pouring into him, his entire body levitating as he raises his head and forces Jaewon down without a single touch. The human grunts at the impact while San hovers above him, his claws now extended and his naked female body replaced by his true form, clothed and unscathed. Jaewon's eyes bulge from his head as San glares down at him, his own eyes sizzling as they turn blood red. "So... tell me, Jaewon. Tell me your final words before I rip your heart out and eat it."

"Y-You... you're the Heart-Ripping Killer, aren't you?" Jaewon cries hysterically, leaving San puzzled when the demon notices that he's _laughing._ " _You're_ the one who's been tearing people's hearts out, _and_ you eat them? Ha!" He laughs and laughs, his eyes having lost their innocence a long time ago, replaced with tears and desperation. "Then do it! Kill me! Rip my heart out and eat it!"

San scowls at him, pressing the tip of his shoe into Jaewon's windpipe enough to make him gag. "Do you have a death wish?" the demon asks him.

Jaewon's maniacal laughter dissolves into a soft chuckle, swallowing hard as he answers, "I want to see my sister again. Kill me."

"You said you wished she would come back just so you could kill her again," San says. "Why, then, would you want to see her in the afterlife?"

"You wouldn't understand," Jaewon chokes out. "She was so beautiful, so talented... I envied her. I wanted to be just like her. She was so beautiful... even as I watched the life drain from her eyes, she still shined brighter than any star I knew. Her beauty... remains unparalleled..."

"Then _why_ would you want to see her in the afterlife if you know you can't kill her again?" San demands, pushing his foot even harder.

"Ack—! I w-want to see her beautiful face again... and m-maybe in our next life, I can watch her die again."

"So you want to die, then?" San asks once more.

"Yes! Yes, please! Kill me!" Tears cascade from Jaewon's eyes as he begs San to take his life, eat his heart.

But as much as San loves to eat the hearts of evil people, he also loves to make the evil _suffer_ , and in this case, Jaewon has no choice but to continue.

While Jaewon's limbs remain useless by his sides under San's power, the demon leans down, removing his foot from Jaewon's neck, and pinches his nose closed. "You have such an evil, evil heart, Jaewon," San coos, tilting his head. Breathless, Jaewon gasps through his mouth, only to have San's claws forced inside. "And such a sharp tongue. What vulgar language you used earlier... I couldn't stand to hear it."

The razor-sharp points of San's claws stab into Jaewon's tongue all at once, severing it, and San rips it from his mouth, watching as a pool of blood follows. Before Jaewon can choke, San attaches his lips to Jaewon's mouth, sucking in all of the blood before cauterizing the wound. San pulls away with a smack of his lips, feeling the human's blood flowing down his chin. With his tongue detached, Jaewon moans pitifully, unable to express any words. San drops the tongue off to the side.

"You want to see how beautiful your sister is?" San asks, gazing into the colored contacts. "You have pictures of her, I'm assuming. Well, it’s too bad her beauty will only exist as a memory now." With one swift motion from both of his hands, the claws dig into Jaewon's eyes, and San revels in the muffled screams of his victim as he rips them from their sockets. Minimal blood comes out, but San sears the wounds anyway and leaves the eyes next to his tongue.

San sighs, his hunger long satiated, but there's one last thing that enticing him, one more thing he wants to do. With Jaewon's eyes and tongue gone, in an unbelievable amount of suffering, San lowers himself to his softened cock, pulls on the tip, and slices it off, testicles and all.

"Your dick game was weak anyway. You don't need this." San laughs wildly, tossing Jaewon's penis beside the other parts he'd removed and burning the wound closed. Jaewon's ability to scream has left him, replaced with nothing but rapid, heavy breaths and pained whimpers. San would rip out his vocal cords as well, but that seems like a bit much. Plus, plunging his claws into Jaewon's neck might just kill him, and he's not about to grant this psychopath's death wish.

San's no stranger to this. He's done this before, leaving his victims to suffer with what they've done. Scooping up the parts he'd torn out, San lets them all fall into his mouth and he chews, feeling the tender flesh _melt in his mouth._

He silently thanks Wooyoung.

And now, with permanent but non-fatal wounds, Jaewon will be left to suffer with nothing, no memories but the image of red. His heart will remain beating in his chest, and while San can still sense its villainous presence, it beats much softer now, the crackle of sparks instead of fireworks.

With the leather dress having been nothing but a mirage, San leaves the motel room with no evidence left of him. Much like before, he disguises himself once more, sabotages the cameras, and puts the receptionist to sleep.

San has never felt so much power before. Though he hadn't eaten Jaewon's heart, everything else, the sex, the pieces of flesh he'd cut out, has fully sated him. He's filled to the brim with demonic energy, so much that it's almost overwhelming.

The power surging through his body launches him into the air, into the night, unbeknownst to the humans wandering the streets.

He flies.

\---

"San."

The demon didn't even realize he'd landed on the roof of another mystery building. He must have flown up here at one point. "Oh, hey, Seonghwa."

"I went to reap this man's soul but instead found him naked and mauled on the bed. Care to explain what happened?" Seonghwa seats himself beside San, both pairs of legs dangling off the edge.

"He wanted to die," San says. "He killed his sister, said he wished he could kill her all over again, but wanted to die so he could see her again. How the fuck does that make sense?"

Seonghwa shrugs. "Sometimes the mind of a psychopath is too chaotic for anybody, even demons, to comprehend."

San scoffs and rolls his eyes at the memory of Jaewon's crazed laughter. "So instead of granting his wish for death, I decided to make him continue living in suffering."

"Mm. So eating hearts is not always your priority."

"Not always, no," San says. "And I actually had sex with him. Fed off of that instead of his heart, though I did help myself to his eyes, heart, and dick."

Seonghwa chuckles, seemingly unbothered, but it's followed by a troubled sigh. "San, I want to warn you, because you left this man alive, Wooyoung..." The reaper sighs heavily again, finding himself at a loss for words for once.

"I get it," San says. "But maybe it's better for him to stay away. I told him that, but he insisted that he wants to hang out with me."

Seonghwa hums in acknowledgement. "If it ever becomes too much for him—"

"I know, I know. Wipe his memories."

The two demons sit there in dead silence, watching as the Earth turns with a starless night sky. Somewhere a few miles away, there's a mutilated man with no memories, covered in dried blood, a young college student who Wooyoung may or may not know. If Wooyoung still wants to be with San after this, San doesn't know _what_ it would take to make the human realize that demons and humans don't mix.

It's not like San is purposely going to try to daunt Wooyoung away from him, but if (when) the time comes, San will be ready for it. He will be ready to let Wooyoung go.

And because San can wipe Wooyoung's mind, the human will be ready to let him go at any time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is probably the most fucked up thing i've written and for that i am sorry
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/galaxysangs)


	4. quattuor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter contains brief discussions of rape, murder, references to the last chapter
> 
> also smut! some frottage, a handjob, and a tiny blowjob :)
> 
> and some weird dick humor at the end lmao

After another lousy day at work, Wooyoung returns to the apartment to the sound of indistinct screaming. It's not coming from Yunho or Mingi, rather, it sounds like it's coming from a phone, probably on speaker. Confused, Wooyoung kicks off his shoes and sees Yunho and Mingi at the kitchen island, a phone resting between them as someone shouts from the speaker.

"—he had his fucking eyes and tongue ripped out!"

Wooyoung recognizes the voice as he's heard it plenty of times before, screaming at Yunho and Mingi over things like video games or general headassery, but this time around, the words Jongho are screaming hold much more anguish, and for good reason. "What's going on?" Wooyoung asks over the sound of Jongho screaming in hysterics. It even sounds like he's crying, his voice breaking at some points during his rant.

"Wooyoung-ah, you... you should probably have a seat." Yunho's face is dead serious once again, but this time, it's even more than the last. Wooyoung sits at the stool next to him, listening to Jongho speak up again.

"Wooyoung, you there? Look, this is bad. This is really, really bad," Jongho says shakily. "My friend... he goes to your school. He was attacked, probably by the Heart-Ripping Killer—"

_San._

_"There are always evil people walking around, Wooyoung. People you wouldn't expect to be evil. People who appear innocent, but have the worst intentions deep down."_

Wooyoung feels his gut twist, knowing that this is San's doing, but like he's said before, he has to get used to it. San _did_ say he was going to find this person and eat his heart. San _did_ tell him that he heard the heartbeat on campus. He'd gone along with it. San is a deliverer of justice. Wooyoung has to remember that, but still, hearing about somebody so close to him, someone that Jongho was also _friends with_ , is unnerving. It's slightly terrifying, even if Wooyoung knows it's San.

"He didn't get his heart ripped out, but... his eyes and tongue were cut out."

The wind is knocked right out of Wooyoung's lungs, and he nearly chokes on air. "W-What?"

San never mentioned _that._

"He was found after some guests at the motel he was at heard him screaming, but since he had his tongue cut off, he couldn't talk. He couldn't say what happened to him." Jongho's voice trembles with terror, understandably so; after all, this was his _friend._ Unlike Min Dongsuk, someone Jongho knew in passing, this was somebody Jongho was close to. "H-He was able to write some stuff down, but his eyes were also gouged out, so it was hard for him to communicate at all."

Wooyoung squeezes his eyes shut in an attempt to repel the image of San gouging a pair of human eyes out from their sockets. "It was weird... he wrote that he couldn't remember what happened to him. He just remembers seeing red, but that was probably his fucking _blood_ when he had his eyes ripped out." The fury in Jongho's voice, along with the mental image, makes Wooyoung wince. "And what's strange is that his wounds were cauterized somehow. He wasn't bleeding when the authorities found him, and according to the doctors who evaluated his injuries, the wounds had been cauterized."

"What the hell..." Yunho's voice trails off into a whisper.

"And... I didn't bring this up because just thinking about it makes me want to throw up, but... he had his dick cut off too."

"Oh, god," Mingi says, sounding nauseated. And again, understandably so. Wooyoung wishes his could take his brain out and spare himself of these mental images, of San mutilating a human body in such a way. "Was it cauterized too?"

"Yeah. And it was _everything_ down there. Not just his dick, but his balls too."

"Jesus Christ." Yunho's face is twisted with repulsion.

"What's his name? Where is he now?" Wooyoung asks frantically.

"His name's Jaewon. I don't know where he is, either at a hospital or with the police. He's still being interrogated, I think. They're trying to figure out what happened to him."

_Except they'll never find out._

"Where was he before he was attacked?"

"We were out at a bar that night," Jongho says. "He left early because he said he wasn't feeling well."

Wooyoung _knows_ that isn't the truth. Probably some sort of story fabricated by either San or Seonghwa. Jaewon probably left with San, where the demon lured him out to a random motel and butchered him. What doesn't make sense to him is why he didn't eat his heart after he said he would. He'd said it so surely too, like he was set on eating this man's heart.

San must have a reason as to why he didn't.

"Apparently, this sort of attack has happened in the past, and the police don't know whether to connect it to the killer or not, but I wouldn't be surprised if it is," Jongho continues. "This killer is _sick. Fucked up._ I swear if I ever find this person, _I'll_ kill them myself."

Wooyoung's fingers are trembling, as is his heart, knowing that that is very much impossible. San will have Jongho's heart before that happens.

But Wooyoung knows San doesn't hurt the innocent. Surely he must have had a reason for not killing Jaewon, because according to him, Jaewon's heart was _evil._ It makes Wooyoung wonder what Jaewon did that made him so evil.

And what better way to find out than to ask the source?

\---

The campus is barren, what with the news of Jaewon's attack and all. There are a few people here and there, some students, some not. People who _have_ to be there. The school made an announcement that classes are to be cancelled for the next week due to safety precautions. At this rate, Wooyoung wouldn't be surprised if they shut down the campus altogether until the killer is caught, which will never happen.

Ironically, it's where Wooyoung arranged to meet San, as it's a location that they're both familiar with, and there aren't many people around to hear them.

He waits a good ten minutes before San appears, and even in the sun, the demon appears to be glowing even more. Wooyoung can practically feel the energy pouring out of his body, and he knows that it must be a result of Jaewon's attack. Wooyoung stands immediately, his heart picking up. "San, what did you do?"

"I told you, Wooyoung. I told you it's better if you're not around me—"

"Never mind that! I want to know _why_ you didn't do it. Why you didn't kill him and eat his heart. There must be a reason why, right?"

San frowns out of confusion. He was probably expecting Wooyoung to be so revolted that he didn't want to be around him anymore, but as much as the story makes Wooyoung sick to his stomach, he knows San like nobody else does (well, obviously not all of him since he's pretty sure a demon's existence is pretty complicated, but nobody except Seonghwa knows that he's going around killing people and eating their hearts), and he knows that San doesn't do what he does without reason. "Tell me why," Wooyoung demands, though his voice is small.

"I don't understand," San says. "I mutilated a student who goes to your school, and you aren't even affected by it?"

"Of course I'm affected by it!" Wooyoung tries to keep his voice down, but it cracks as he feels tears forming in his eyes. "It was... it was disgusting, picturing the things that you did to this guy, but I also know that you don't do what you do without a reason. You said he was evil, right? _How_ was he evil?"

San bites his bottom lip, a habit that Wooyoung has picked up on. "He murdered his sister."

" _What_?" Wooyoung's eyes widen with disbelief, already beginning to feel another type of disgust bubbling inside him.

San nods. "I was in my succubus form when I met him at the bar. I tranced him in order to get him to confess to his sins, where I found out he killed his sister, and I even got him to admit that he wanted to kill _me._ I took him back to the motel, where I stopped the trance, and that's when it all happened."

"You ripped his tongue and eyes out and cut his dick off? Just like that?"

"Well, no." San's lips curve into a smile, but it's not the smile Wooyoung is used to seeing. This isn't the human smile that Wooyoung likes to see. It's San as he truly is, a demon, one who eats hearts. "I had a little... fun with him first."

Wooyoung doesn't like the sound of that. He remembers what San told him, the _type_ of demon he is. "I thought... I thought you said you didn't do that!"

San shrugs. "I _normally_ don't do it. I've done it on very, very rare occasions. But Jaewon... he was something different. I don't think that killing his sister is all he did. With the way he handled me, I imagine he's carried out some other evil doings in the past."

"The way he... handled you?" Wooyoung feels his heart plummet into his stomach.

"Don't get it twisted, Wooyoung. Remember, humans can't hurt me. Yes, he admitted to killing his sister, but his heart sounded much more evil than just that of a murderer. Combined with the fact that he admitted he wanted to kill me, I believe he's targeted other women as well."

Wooyoung might just throw up. "It makes me wonder what other things he's done," San murmurs, his eyes glowering at the ground. "Things I didn't get him to admit."

"You think... you think he's raped people in the past?"

After a few seconds, San nods. "And now, he can't, since I cut his dick off." He scoffs, looking up from the ground. "I should've cut his hands off too. That way, he wouldn't be able to touch anybody."

Wooyoung's entire body is aching with inner turmoil, conflicted. As revolted as he is from San's acts, the sense of justice is still there. "But... why didn't you eat his heart?"

"After I was finished feeding from him," San says, and it takes a moment for Wooyoung to remember that San _does_ feed off of sex, "I was about to kill him, but he told me that he wanted to die so he could see his sister again. Before that, he told me that he wished his sister would come back so he could kill her all over again."

"What the fuck? That doesn't make any sense!"

"I know." San rolls his eyes. "But he truly had a death wish. He was laughing even though his death was imminent, so I took that opportunity from him. I didn't kill him like he wanted. Instead, I made him live with permanent wounds and reminders of what he truly is."

A murderer and a rapist. The types of people San targets. Even though Jaewon may be a student at Wooyoung's university, he is still evil. He still has an evil heart, and now, San's words hold more significance than before. "I wiped his memory, of course," San goes on, "so now, he will forever live in suffering wondering how he ended up in such a state."

A heavy silence floats between them as Wooyoung processes the information. If only Jongho knew what his friend had done. Though Wooyoung's nausea has subsided, his skin still shudders with the thought that evil people are truly closer than one might think. And someone so young, at that. "I don't just eat hearts, Wooyoung," San says. "Most of the time, my victims want to live. They want to carry out their crimes. But in these sorts of cases, where the perpetrators want to die, I give them the opposite. I make it so that they live, but not without suffering."

"I... I get it."

When Wooyoung looks up, San is gawking at him. "You... get it?"

"L-Like I said, it's unnerving," Wooyoung says, his throat beginning to feel constricted like before. It itches with the memory of Dongsuk glaring at him with crazed eyes as he attempted to strangle the life from him, leaving him with some nasty scars, but then he's reminded that San _saved_ him. "I-I mean, obviously I wouldn't kill evil people myself, because I don't think I'd be able to kill anybody, but I understand why you do what you do."

San is left silent, staring at Wooyoung in utter confusion. "Wooyoung," he says after several seconds of silence, "do you think evil people deserve to die?"

The question feels like a stab in the chest. He can feel his eyes beginning to water, his lip quivering with the need to cry. In this moment, he doesn't even know _what_ his heart is doing because everything else is attacking him at once. It's an age-old question that everyone has different opinions on. The death penalty, whether it's the right thing to do or not. If murderers, rapists, and pedophiles deserve to die for what they do.

Before Wooyoung can answer, San sighs. "Never mind that question, Wooyoung," he says. "I don't want to make your heart hurt more than it already does."

"W-What?"

"You're overwhelmed, Wooyoung. I can hear it in your heart." San points at Wooyoung's chest to emphasize his point. "Like I said, Wooyoung, your heart beats purely, and it feels pain. When it does, I can hear it."

"What does it sound like?" Wooyoung mumbles, blinking away a few tears.

"You know that phrase, when your heart skips a beat?" San asks, to which Wooyoung nods. "It's like that."

Before Wooyoung breaks down, he feels hands on his shoulders as he collapses to the ground to his knees and sobs. He hears San sigh from in front of him. "Wooyoung, I'm telling you, it's not good for you to be around me—"

"No!" Wooyoung cries out, raising his head up to look at San.

The demon is looking at him with worry in those lifeless eyes. They look... human. As much as Wooyoung wants to scream his heart out, tell San _everything_ , he can't. Not in front of a demon. Nobody, not even Yunho and Mingi, knows about his constant internal dilemmas. He wants San to stay. He wants to show San that he's not just some cowardly human who doesn't know how to act around people.

Despite being a demon, San seems to treat Wooyoung more like a human than anybody else does.

"I want to be around you, San," Wooyoung confesses, head hanging in shame like he's used to. "I really enjoy your company. I know we haven't known each other for that long, like, just a few days, but I like talking to you, even though I know I talk too much sometimes, and even though your whole demon existence is pretty disturbing, it's interesting. It's different, something that kind of crushes my reality but it really, really is interesting to learn about, because I'm sure they don't have this sort of stuff recorded in books—"

"Wooyoung."

The human abruptly stops talking, realizing what he's doing _again._ "I... I'm really sorry."

And San smiles again, _that_ smile. The one Wooyoung likes to see. "If it's what you want... then I'll stay," San says. "But Wooyoung, I'm not going to stop eating hearts and killing evil people. You understand that, right?" Wooyoung nods feebly, sniffling and wiping away his tears with the back of his hand. "If it ever becomes to much for you, you need to let me know."

"What... what will you do if I tell you that?" Wooyoung asks, even though he already knows the answer.

"I'll make it so that you never knew I existed."

And there it is. The heartwrenching reality. "I understand," Wooyoung squeaks. He's never felt so small. "I'm sorry, San."

"Why are you sorry?"

Wooyoung sniffles again, this time, leaning forward into San's chest unintentionally as he feels his body give out underneath him. Startled, the demon stumbles backwards slightly, landing on his rear, but he holds Wooyoung up out of reflex. "I don't know," Wooyoung mumbles. "I always apologize for everything."

"Why?" San asks, hands awkwardly near but not touching Wooyoung's waist.

"I don't know."

Wooyoung doesn't know how long they stay like that, with him curled up into this demon's motionless chest, with clawless hands by his side. Despite the weight Wooyoung is putting against San, he doesn't topple over; instead, he remains a pillar that Wooyoung leans against, small and helpless, a mere human, and the absence of a heartbeat in San's chest is proof of that. Wooyoung is so small in comparison, and yet, somehow, he doesn't feel that way entirely around San.

Not when San treats him like a _human being_. One that isn't ridiculed for the way he behaves or stumbles over nothing. One who isn't made fun of for the way he speaks. San treats him normally, which is everything Wooyoung could ever ask for.

Even though he's a demon, _San_ is everything Wooyoung could ever ask for.

***

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" San asks warily as Wooyoung tugs on his arm in the direction of his apartment. "The news is still fresh, you know. I don't think it's a good idea to be introducing new people to your roommates."

"It's not like they know you're the one who did it. And you said it yourself, Yunho and Mingi don't know or remember who you are, so it should be fine. Besides, we can all get a little tipsy, and—oh wait, you don't get drunk, right?"

San chuckles. "No, I don't. But feel free to help yourself."

Wooyoung beams at him, his eyes becoming crescent moons as he does. "Okay!"

It's so endearing, San thinks. The way Wooyoung's eyes change so often, from joy to fear to sadness, all within such a short time span. Such a wide range of emotions in this young man, emotions that San has never felt and will never feel. His heart changes with his eyes too, where his normal heartbeat sounds like ocean waves, his strained heartbeat speeds up, like a hurricane swirling over the ocean, crashing waters and torrential downpours. And when he shrinks, when he hides himself away, it dies to a simple sprinkle, a soft pitter patter of raindrops hitting the earth.

In a way, San envies Wooyoung. If he had a heartbeat, he wonders what it would sound like.

San has only ever been into the apartment once. It's almost exactly the same as last time he'd seen it, maybe slightly dirtier than before but that's to be expected of three college males who have probably been too shaken up by the news of the recent attacks to be focused on cleaning.

"I'm sorry it's a bit messy," Wooyoung says, taking the thoughts right out of San's head.

"Hey, Wooyoungie! It's game night, are you—oh?" Yunho emerges from the hallway. "Who's this?" Mingi appears not even three seconds after, freezing in place at the sight of the unfamiliar person in the room.

"Yunho, Mingi, this is San." Wooyoung smiles proudly, gesturing at the demon. "He's a regular at the café."

Yunho grins suggestively, which makes San chuckle inwardly. "Uh huh. Well, it's nice to meet you, San! I'm Yunho, Wooyoung's roommate, and this is Mingi." The other roommate smiles widely, waving his hand with an excessive amount of enthusiasm.

"Nice to meet you both." San bows his head, Yunho and Mingi returning the same gesture.

It's hauntingly eerie now, knowing that San has met Yunho and Mingi before but the two have no recollection of it. How he'd greeted Wooyoung's roommates bloodied and disheveled from a kill. How they barely reacted under his spell. And now, they're lively as they're meant to be, as humans are meant to be, and San can't help but feel a little guilty.

"Is San joining us for game night?" Yunho asks as he steps around the kitchen island, opening a cabinet and retrieving two bags of chips and a bottle of what looks to be vodka.

"Game night?" San looks at Wooyoung questioningly, smirking.

"Oh, yeah. Once week when we have free time, we schedule a game night where we play some card games or video games and drink and eat and be stupid," Wooyoung says. "And Mingi tries to make cocktails with the alcohol and juice we keep in the house, but..."

"But it's not much," Mingi finishes. "Usually! However, I went all out today, went grocery shopping after class and..." He snickers, padding over to a separate cabinet and opening it to reveal an array of liquor, mixers, snacks, and even new glasses. "I figured I'd splurge a bit."

Wooyoung's mouth drops open as he approaches the cabinet to inspect its contents while San remains by the entrance, sticking one hip out and watching the scene curiously. Wooyoung is oddly excited about the selection, making San think back to when he was Haneul, how Wooyoung noticed Dongsuk being suspicious and intervened. How Wooyoung stepped out of his shell for that time being and "saved" Haneul from being a victim.

San supposes that Wooyoung deserves to have some fun sometimes. He seems to be the type of person who has more fun in smaller, more intimate spaces rather than nightclubs or parties, and that's completely okay. San understands, after all, since he's not one for interaction anyway. And seeing Wooyoung all excited for this "game night" filled with alcohol, games, and being stupid, well, San is happy for him. Wooyoung must enjoy drinking in a more reserved area, where he can let loose and have fun without having to worry about an enormous crowd witness his faults. He seems comfortable around his roommates, who are his only friends according to that girl, but it makes San wonder just _why_ Wooyoung wants to be around him.

To have another friend? To feel less alone? Something along those lines, San assumes, but the reason why doesn't bother him that much. If Wooyoung wants to hang out with him despite knowing his deeds, then so be it. No need to question it.

Witnessing three college students attempt to make mixed drinks after a few sips of wine is hilarious, San finds out. At one point, Mingi doesn't screw the shaker on tight enough, and cold liquor ends up spilling all over the counter, his hands, and the floor. Mingi's screaming plus Yunho and Wooyoung's rambunctious laughter makes for a chaotic scene that San has only ever known to appear in movies. As Mingi shakes the alcohol off his hand, he stammers "cold cold cold," which makes San smile. Right, they're all human, so they can feel temperature. With how distressed Mingi sounds, it must hurt in some way.

Wooyoung hands San a glass of something at one point. It's tinged pink, leading San to believe it's the wine that they drank before their poor attempts at mixing drinks. He wonders if Wooyoung forgot that he can't taste alcohol, or if he's trying to make San look human and help him fit in. Whatever the case, San sips it anyway, feeling the liquid seep down his throat but nothing else.

The humans are already positively tipsy when they gather around the coffee table and pick out a game. It's one called "Uno," with cards of red, blue, green, and yellow, all with numbers on them with the exception of multi-colored ones, some with arrows, and some with circles with lines through them. San watches Yunho shuffle the deck and leans into Wooyoung. "What's this game?"

"You don't know Uno?" Wooyoung questions a little too loudly.

"San's never played Uno before?" Mingi asks. "Really? It's such an iconic game. Friendships are destroyed sometimes over this game."

"Not ours, though. Our bond is unlike any other," Yunho says with a giggle. His clumsy, inebriated hands lose their grip on the cards, which end up scattering all over the table. "Oops."

While Mingi takes over shuffling the cards, Wooyoung explains the rules to San. The game is ridiculously simple, even though San's never heard of nor played this game. Even though it honestly seems a little boring, he can sort of understand how this game would be amusing to intoxicated humans.

He also discovers why Mingi said friendships are ruined because of this game.

Every single fucking time he has to draw four, he wants to lash out his claws and rip all of their hearts out. It takes a few rounds for San to actually win once he realizes that there's a very minuscule amount of strategy to win this game. _Technically,_ he could easily use his power of entrancement to win these games, but he's also trying to blend in, so he'll forego that for now.

They manage to turn such a harmless card game into a drinking game, however, which San is ultimately dragged into, not that it matters. Every time someone has to draw four, that person has to sip, not down, a shot. It makes all of them wince except for San. "San, what the fuck?" Mingi slurs at one point. "How are you not _dying_?"

The question almost makes San laugh out loud. "I'm just used to hard drinks," he says.

"San, you're hard as _fuck._ Wait, holy shit, not like that. Y'know, like, hard as in badass." Yunho follows his nonsensical rambling with a hiccup and a laugh. "San, you are _badass._ I mean, just like, how you're dressed. In all black like that. I couldn't pull that off."

"You've got kind of a vampire look going for you," Mingi says, eyelids drooping pleasantly. "Kinda hot if you ask me."

"Mingi-yah, that sounded really gay."

"Yunho-yah, _I'm_ really gay."

All of them laugh at that, including San. He remembers seeing Yunho and Mingi up on those poles back at the club, how they spread their legs and dropped it so low San thought their leather pants were going to rip. Not to mention the drag queens stepping up to dance with them. It was probably the gayest thing San's ever witnessed.

"If you don't mind me asking, what are all of you in terms of sexual orientation?" San asks, realizing the question may have sounded too formal.

The others don't seem to pay any mind to it, though. "Wooyoungie is _bisexual_." Yunho drawls out the word dramatically, throwing his arm around Wooyoung as he does so. "Like, the most bisexual dude you will ever come across. He fits every single stereotype out there. Like, he cuffs his jeans, tucks his shirts in halfway, he even owns a pair of fucking _overalls._ What straight man wears _overalls_?"

"Baggy overalls," Mingi clarifies. "And he'll wear them over a pink sweater."

"Hey, it's comfy!" Wooyoung screeches, somehow overpowering Yunho and tackling him to the ground.

San was unaware that these were stereotypes, but they're amusing. "Anyways, to answer your question, I too am quite the bi," Mingi says, patting his chest proudly. "And Yunho over there—" He points at the tallest, who's currently wrestling Wooyoung off of him, "—is, like, just chilling."

"He prefers not to use labels," Wooyoung grunts from the floor, ultimately being pulled back up by Yunho. "What about you, San?"

San shrugs, not having expected to be asked the question back. "Um, I don't know."

After all, do demons even _have_ a sexual orientation? San just fucks whoever in order to feed, and he doesn't even do it that often. "I guess it doesn't matter. I don't have a preference."

"So, are you like Yunho, where you don't want to use labels?" Mingi asks.

"I guess so."

Mingi's face brightens, smiling so widely for no apparent reason. "Okay, cool!"

Somehow, the game becomes completely forgotten about, and San is the only one left sitting up straight while the others lie in a pile on the floor. They're laughing at absolutely nothing, their hearts mingling into one, smiling, beaming. Happiness, San realizes. This must be what happiness looks like.

He wonders what it feels like.

Sure, he's capable of laughing and smiling. He can find things funny. But never once in his existence has he felt the kind of happiness he sees in human smiles, in human laughter, in humanity as a whole. He can't even begin to imagine what it feels like. The best feeling he gets is whenever he eats an evil heart, but it's more of a satisfaction, a way to fuel himself, his _food_ , not whatever happiness is.

The sun has long gone. All that's left is the dim kitchen lighting and a single lamp lit in the corner of the living room, casting a shadow of itself on the wall. San loses track of time often, and time tends to pass by quickly for him. He knows that it fluctuates for humans; sometimes time goes by quickly, sometimes excruciatingly slowly. Before he knows it, Yunho is yawning and sitting up as well. "Fuck, what time is it? Did I just wake up?"

Mingi snickers from the floor. "Maybe. I dunno. What's going on? Where are we? All valid questions when intoxicated. I blame the shots."

"We didn't even pound them, dude," Wooyoung says. "We'd be a lot more fucked if we did."

With another yawn, Yunho stands and stretches his arms above his head. "Well, I'm tired and drunk, so I'm going to bed. Mingi?"

Sluggishly, Mingi stands as well with some of Yunho's support, taking the tallest's hand in his. "We're going to bed," Mingi announces, already tugging Yunho in the direction of the hallway where all of their bedrooms are.

"If you two are going to fuck, please do it quietly!" Wooyoung calls after them.

"No promises!" Yunho calls back only a moment before a door shuts behind them.

Wooyoung giggles, his back still glued to the floor. San glances at him with amusement. "They're fucking?" he questions.

"Sometimes. Not like, _fucking_ , but they'll give each other a handjob or blowjob now and again, especially after we get drunk together."

"Do you, um, participate?" San asks.

"Nah. I see them more as brothers than sexual partners," Wooyoung says, finally sitting up, groaning as he does. "I mean, they're both very attractive, but I don't think I could suck either of their dicks and not want to hide myself in my room and never come out."

San chuckles, leaning back against the sofa's cushions, his legs neatly crossed. "So, uh, about earlier," Wooyoung says, "you... said you don't have a preference."

"Right."

"When you had sex with Jaewon—"

San scoffs, inadvertently cutting him off. "I wouldn't even call that sex. I was feeding. That's what I do as an incubus. Sex is for feeding, nothing else."

Wooyoung frowns, his eyes narrowing. "So... you don't have sex for pleasure?"

San shakes his head. "Well that fucking sucks," Wooyoung says, and San can't help but chuckle at that. "That's pretty much all humans have sex for. I mean, unless a woman wants to have a child, but using myself as an example, I'm not exactly trying to reproduce by having a dick in my ass."

That makes San laugh harder than he's ever laughed before, even during times where he watches his victims suffer. He genuinely laughs, and Wooyoung laughs with him, loud and boldly. It resembles some sort of animal laugh, shrill and squeaky. It's a peculiar laugh, one that San hasn't really heard before, and it's unabashedly Wooyoung. When San comes down from his laughter, he sighs, while Wooyoung's laughter simmers to occasional giggles. "But really," the human says, "you seriously don't have sex for pleasure?"

"No," San says, shrugging. "Pleasure isn't really something I feel. I mean, apart from when I treat myself to an evil heart, but that's not really _pleasure_ , at least by human definition."

San watches Wooyoung's eyes land on his crotch. "You have a dick, right?"

"Yes, Wooyoung, I have reproductive organs in both forms." San is still smiling, because Wooyoung's presence and everything that comes out of his mouth is unintentionally hilarious. He quite enjoys their conversations.

He enjoys Wooyoung's company.

"Do they even _work_?"

"What do you mean, _work_?"

"Like, can you get it up? Can it get wet? Things like that."

San wonders if it's the alcohol that's sparked Wooyoung's bravery. Wooyoung keeps his eyes locked on San's crotch, but not lustfully. He's gazing at it as if he's trying to examine it somehow. "Yes, Wooyoung. In that way, my reproductive organs _work._ "

"Can you come?"

"Wooyoung, you're asking quite personal questions," San chides, though he's not offended in the slightest.

Wooyoung shrugs, rolling over onto his stomach. "Liquid courage does wonders. But really, can you even come?"

San finds himself glancing down at his own crotch, his brows furrowed because when he thinks about it, he's never come before. "I think so." If he can get it up, he's sure he can come. "I don't know, though. I've never come before."

"You _what_?" Wooyoung nearly shrieks, paying no mind to Yunho and Mingi's presence in the other room. San hurriedly shushes him. "Oh, sorry. But seriously, what the fuck? You're a literal sex demon, and you've never come before? Wait, holy shit, your female form has a vagina, right? What's that like?"

"No, I've never come before despite being a literal sex demon, and having a vagina is like... having a vagina. It's, well, there. But unlike a penis, it doesn't dangle between your legs."

"Oh, to be someone who doesn't have a dick dangling between their legs," Wooyoung sighs. "That sucks though. Never having an orgasm. Have you tried? Like, do you jerk off?"

"Jerk off?"

Wooyoung's eyes widen. "You know, beat your meat? Choke your chicken? Ahem, _masturbate_?"

"Oh, that. No, I never have."

Wooyoung audibly gasps, immediately scrambling to his knees and gaping at San in disbelief. "How are you a sex demon but have never experienced a lot of things relating to sex?"

"It's like I said, Wooyoung. I have sex to feed, nothing else. I feed off of sexual energy and fluids. When Jaewon came in me, my body absorbed it, and that's how I fed without eating his heart."

"Okay, ew, really don't wanna picture that guy coming inside you," Wooyoung says with his nose scrunched. "But that just blew my mind. I can't believe it."

San just sighs and shrugs indifferently. Sure, he knows that these are things commonly associated with sex. Sure, he's been curious about it in the past. But he's never been entirely bothered by it, especially when all he's used to doing is wandering around the Earth, eating hearts, and existing.

However, with all of Wooyoung's inquiries, his curiosity is hitting a peak. The human hasn't broken his gaze, eyes fixed on San's crotch. "Wooyoung," San says, mustering up courage, which is _definitely_ something new. He's never had to have _courage_ to do, let alone say anything before. "I'm curious. What does an orgasm feel like?"

"Oh, god, they're so amazing. I swear, orgasms are some of the best things on the planet." Wooyoung kneels, clapping and rubbing his hands together. "Okay, so when you're having sex or jerking off or whatever, and you start to feel 'close,' your lower abdomen gets all tight, and it just keeps building and building until it just releases, and then you come. It's different for everybody, but for me, it's like my entire body just shuts off for a second, then becomes overwhelmed by pleasure. It also gets really hot, not that you could feel that, though. I don't really know how to explain it since you've never felt it for yourself."

San nods in understanding. He sucks in his bottom lip, averting his eyes from Wooyoung. "Why do you ask?" Wooyoung's voice is laced with suggestiveness, San notices.

"I... never really thought about what it's like," the demon admits. "Mostly because I had no reason to think about it or seek it out. But now that you're talking about it, I'm just really curious, I guess."

There are a few seconds of tense silence until San feels a hand on his knee. When he finally looks at Wooyoung, the human is staring at him with comforting eyes rather than those of lust. San returns the stare, one side of his mouth slightly turned upward in a weak smile. "Sorry," the demon mumbles.

"Why are you sorry?" Wooyoung asks almost tauntingly, the question very familiar.

Both corners of San's mouth turn up this time. "I'm just... thinking."

"Just say it, San," Wooyoung says.

San lets the tension in his shoulders go, allowing them to sag as he says, "I'm curious. I want to know what it's like to have an orgasm, and I... was wondering if you would help me."

Of course Wooyoung isn't stupid. Of course Wooyoung knew what this was all leading up to. But he doesn't react in the way San thought he would; instead of smirking, eyeing him with desire, Wooyoung seems to shrink again, turning his eyes away. "I sort of knew that was what you were going to say," he says, "but I don't think... I could do it."

"What do you mean?"

"You said it yourself, San. You don't feel temperature, and you just said not too long ago that you don't feel pleasure either. Having an orgasm involves both of those things. I can't make you come if you can't feel what I do."

San presses his lips into a thin line, realizing that Wooyoung is speaking the truth, but then his head sparks with an idea. "Wooyoung, I have a proposition, if you'd be okay with it."

Appearing wary, Wooyoung asks, "What is it?"

San has made people come in the past with his body. He's been fucked before, mainly in his succubus form, and the men he's fed from always come inside him. But he's never seen an orgasm from the _outside_ , and from what San remembers, the orgasms that feed him don't appear to be as pleasurable as Wooyoung makes them out to be. San wants to know what an orgasm feels like, but if he can't come himself, then maybe he can _watch_ one. A genuine one.

"I want to make _you_ come."

"You— _what_?" Wooyoung chokes on nothing, spluttering as he tries to catch his breath. "You—I... you _what_?"

As much as San wants to laugh, he doesn't. "If I can't have one myself, then I want to know what one looks like. I don't know if you'd be able to feel much of me either, but I've made people come in the past, usually inside me, but..."

"San, I'm not going to fuck you, no offense. I'm not trying to be fed off of. But I guess... if you want to try to make me come in another way, I don't see the harm in it besides it probably being awkward." Wooyoung offers him a nervous smile.

"If you're willing to try," San says.

It takes several seconds of visible consideration before Wooyoung stands wordlessly, motioning for San to follow him. Slightly confused but well aware, San follows Wooyoung to his room, the place where he'd dropped his unconscious body off, injured neck and all. A strange sense of nostalgia washes over him, knowing that this is the place where Wooyoung resides, sleeps, and does who knows what else in, but it's also where San first caught a glimpse of Wooyoung's humanity.

An unconscious human, with broken memories and a mangled throat, resting uncomfortably in a normal, human bed. And now, San is being guided onto that same bed.

"I have an idea," Wooyoung says, motioning for San to get to the center of the bed. He reaches over to his nightstand drawer where he pulls out a bottle.

"What's that?" San asks.

"It's lube. You know, stuff that makes sex a thousand times easier and is essential for anything involving anal," Wooyoung states like it's common knowledge (which it probably is among humans, but San is a clueless sex demon, how ironic). "This is warming lube, though. When it gets on skin, it heats up. I figured it'll help a lot."

San nods, taking the bottle into his hands and uncapping it, only to be stopped by Wooyoung grabbing his wrist. "Not yet. You gotta, like, work up to it, you know?"

"I don't know what you mean, no."

Wooyoung sighs, then without warning yanks his shirt over his head. "Do you know what foreplay is?" San shakes his head. "Oh my god. For a sex demon, you don't know shit about sex."

"Hey! It may be what I'm meant to feed off of, but I don't do it that much!" San argues defensively, but then he's hit with the realization that Wooyoung just took off his shirt. He gazes at Wooyoung's upper half, a bit confused, but intrigued as well. "Am I... do I do the same?"

Wooyoung shrugs. "Usually clothes come off during sex, so—" He doesn't have to say another word before San mirrors his previous action, tugging off his shirt and tossing it somewhere across the room. San can hear the jump in Wooyoung's heart, the sharp inhale into his lungs. "Shit."

"What?" San says, glancing down at himself. "Did I do something wrong?"

"N-No, not at all." Wooyoung swallows hard, his eyes raking up and down San's body. "You just... have a really nice body. I guess it's to be expected of a sex demon, though." He laughs nervously, looking down at his own body. "I feel kind of, uh, inferior now." He crosses his arms over his stomach.

San sighs, shuffling forward on his knees and grabbing both of Wooyoung's elbows, prying his arms off his torso. While it's not exactly defined, it's lean and healthy. He's got a little pudge to him, but San thinks it's endearing, _cute_ , even. "You're _fine_ , Wooyoung. You don't need to hide."

Wooyoung raises his head and looks San straight in the eyes, and the demon suddenly becomes aware of what he's used to. He gazes people in the eyes to trance them. But in a way, he finds himself admiring Wooyoung instead, his human eyes that are filled with wonder and curiosity, maybe an ounce of lust. San can also see the shy, timid Wooyoung that he knows as well, the one who always feels the need to hide beneath his shirt collar, the one who's been called worse than weird and boring.

He may be weird, but he is far from boring.

San's hands move from Wooyoung's elbows to his waist. "You don't need to hide," he enunciates.

Wooyoung gulps, his head leaning in and resting against San's. "San," he says, sounding breathless, "kiss me."

"What?" San reels back slightly at Wooyoung's request.

Confused and seemingly offended, Wooyoung frowns. "You know, kissing. That's a thing."

"Y-Yeah, I know what kissing is," San defends hurriedly, "but... I've never kissed before."

"Oh my god. Are you... you're serious?"

"Yeah, I am."

For once, San feels like the inferior one. The most he's done in terms of kissing is attached his mouth to Jaewon's to drink the blood from his mouth, but he's never properly kissed anyone. It's never something he's had to do. But now, Wooyoung is requesting he kiss him, and he's already made it this far.

"Then let me," Wooyoung says before sliding his hands behind San's neck, pulling him in, and kissing him tenderly.

San takes what feels like a necessary breath.

***

As opposed to his hands, San's lips are soft.

In all honesty, Wooyoung expected them to be cold as well, but his mouth is just like the rest of his body. Not warm like a human's, but not cold either. It's odd, kissing a mouth that isn't warm, but at least it's wet. It's plush and plump like a normal pair of lips. And yeah, as someone who's never kissed someone before, San isn't exactly good at it. At the first touch of the lips, San doesn't move at all. Wooyoung moves his, tries to get San to follow along, but the demon just stays there, lips stagnant, and Wooyoung has to pull away. "That's not how you kiss somebody, San."

"Then how are you supposed to do it?"

"You felt me moving my lips, right?" San nods. "You do the same. And try to follow my movements, build up a rhythm. Kissing is best when the two people are in sync." The demon blinks tentatively but lets Wooyoung lean in again, and this time, he moves his lips.

Maybe it's a sex demon thing, but San picks up on it fairly quickly. It doesn't take long at all for the pair to build up a solid rhythm, their lips molding against each other in sync. San's mouth may not be as warm as a human's is supposed to be, but they still _feel_ like normal human lips. Kissing San is like kissing a human minus the temperature, and Wooyoung likes kissing. A lot. Not to mention it's been a while since he's properly made out with someone, so to say that he's a bit sexually frustrated is extremely accurate. It doesn't even feel like a few seconds before Wooyoung starts to get hard in his pants.

However, San's hands remain motionless by his sides. This sex demon's lack of knowledge when it comes to sexual things is astounding to Wooyoung. Frustrated, he pulls away, barely registering San's perplexed face before grabbing onto San's wrists and guiding his hands to his body. "Touch me," Wooyoung orders him. "Everywhere."

"Okay," San obeys easily, and Wooyoung dives in once more while San's hands roam his hips, his lower back, and his abdomen. Just as Wooyoung expected, his touch is just like the rest of him. Not cold but not warm.

Because his fingers are just like the rest of him, there's no real temperature, but the feeling of fingers traveling against his sensitive skin is enough to rile him up, shivering at San's touch, and he can't help the tiny moan that slips past his lips and into San's. He grips the back of San's neck harder, shuffling forward on his knees until their chests are pressed together and kissing him harder, slipping his tongue into San's mouth.

"Mmph!" San gasps into Wooyoung's mouth, though he doesn't pull away. With a flick of Wooyoung's tongue against his, he picks up on the signal, sliding his own tongue into Wooyoung's mouth, driving both their tongues to dance around each other. Wooyoung exhales through his nose, the kiss leaving him slightly breathless before he pulls away, only to nudge San forward to lie back against the pillows.

As San gets into position, he observes Wooyoung as the human slings one leg over his lap, straddling him. Sliding his hands up San's torso, up to his shoulders, Wooyoung leans down again, catching San's lips in his once more while the demon reattaches his hands to his hips, squeezing them lightly. From what Wooyoung can tell, San isn't breathing, which is understandable coming from a demon who doesn't require air to live, but Wooyoung's own heavy, rapid breaths and tiny whimpers seem to be affecting him, as his fingers dig into the skin of his hips every time a noise escapes the human.

"Lower," Wooyoung breathes against San's lips. Compliantly, the demon pulls Wooyoung forward by his hips and slides his hands under Wooyoung's pants, grabbing his ass and squeezing it just as hard as his hips. "Fuck, San." Wooyoung lowers himself even further until their crotches are touching, grinding his hips down onto San's, moaning as he feels the friction against his hardening cock.

And unexpectedly, Wooyoung feels a puff of air against his nose. Startled but too turned on to care that much, he pulls off of San's lips and instead latches onto his neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses against the demon's skin, his own hands starting to navigate San's skin. It's not as soft as his lips, but not as rough as his hands.

His hands. They disappear further down Wooyoung's pants and underwear, inadvertently easing them down past his hips. Impatient, Wooyoung straightens himself up, rolling over to San's side and stripping himself of the rest of his clothes, his naked body now fully exposed in front of this demon.

"Should I?" San's eyes flick over to the bottle of lube.

"Y-Yeah," Wooyoung says, but he could probably honestly get off without it.

San nods obediently, picking the bottle up and uncapping it. "So do I just squeeze it on you or?"

Right. San knows absolutely nothing. Chuckling, Wooyoung takes San's wrist again, the one of the hand that's holding the lube. "You don't need a lot," he says. "Lube spreads easily."

"Alright." Biting his lip (again, what a habit), San squeezes a dollop onto Wooyoung's chest, recapping the lube and tossing it aside before splaying his hands out and spreading the lube across his chest, down his abdomen and onto his pelvis. Tilting his head back, Wooyoung lets out a sigh of content, feeling the coldness of the lube on his skin gradually warm up, sparking his skin and making it tingle. His mouth falls open as he feels San's hand on his cock. The lube left over on San's hand makes him jerk, feeling the lube's effect after San strokes it a few times. He's pretty sure he's leaking already from how pent up he'd been. He wonders if San can feel that.

"I'm guessing it feels good," San says with one hand on Wooyoung's cock and the other spread out across his chest.

Wooyoung nods, his whimpers becoming full on moans as he thrusts up into San's hand, desperately wanting more friction, wanting to fall apart and come all over this demon's hand. The wetness of the lube is making all sorts of squelching noises as San's hand speeds up on his cock, the lube's heat and _San_ fogging his brain. His heart feels like it's bursting out of his chest, his breaths rapid with desperation. His eyes close tightly, head thrown back against the pillow.

"You might want to keep it down if you don't want your roommates to hear you," San warns, voice hushed.

"Don't care," Wooyoung gasps, hands gripping the sheets like his life depends on it. "Just wanna come, 'm s-so close."

"You are?" San doesn't even ask it teasingly. He sounds curious, hell, maybe even surprised.

"Haven't... haven't done this in a while," Wooyoung pants, circling his hips. "G-Gonna make me come, San."

His eyes flutter open to see the demon watching his lower half, brows furrowed in concentration. His tongue pokes out from the side of his mouth as he tightens his grip, his hand moving in solid strokes.

And then, it stops.

"W-What the fuck?" Wooyoung sits up, his cock twitching helplessly, so fucking close.

"I wanna try something," San says, snaking his way down until his face meets Wooyoung's cock.

"What are you—h-holy shit."

San's mouth sinks down onto Wooyoung's cock, swallowing it whole, and Wooyoung swears he sees stars. With the warming lube still coating his cock, it feels hot, just as any mouth would, not to mention San has no fucking gag reflex. The demon is able to bob his head easily, the tip of Wooyoung's length colliding with the back of his throat with no problem at all. "Holy _fuck,_ San," Wooyoung gasps, his fingers instinctively burying themselves in San's hair. It's smooth and soft, just like his lips.

_Does it feel good?_

"Y-Yeah," Wooyoung says, not even paying attention to the fact that he'd just heard San's voice in his head.

_I'm glad._

Wooyoung clamps his mouth shut in an attempt to silence his moans. Using his grip on San's hair as leverage, he effectively fucks into San's mouth, and the demon takes it like it's nothing. His mouth is hot and wet around his cock, just like a human mouth, and it's no different.

San is no different.

_Your heart's beating so fast, Wooyoung._

"N-No shit," Wooyoung chuckles breathlessly.

San pops off of his cock, his tongue instantly flatting against the length, traveling upwards until it flicks off of the head. "Tell me when you're about to come, Wooyoung," San says, suckling the head and tonguing the slit. He strokes the base, tongue moving skillfully along the length, and it's not even a minute later when Wooyoung chokes out a warning.

"Gonna come, San, _fuck._ " He's panting, his chest rising and falling at an incredible pace as he hits his high, his come splashing onto his stomach, all over San's hand, maybe even into his mouth, Wooyoung doesn't know. He's too focused on the pleasure and trying to keep quiet, biting into the back of his hand and keeping his moans to suppressed whines.

When his cock is finished pulsing, his shoulders relax and he drops his hand from his mouth, plopping uselessly onto the mattress. "Shit," he mumbles, finally opening his eyes to see San gazing at his abdomen in wonder. There's a _lot_ , probably to be expected from someone who hasn't had another human being (or demon, in this case) touch him in so long. There are small pools of it on his stomach, and a good amount of it is coating the back of San's hand, some even painting the sides of his mouth. "S-Sorry I got some on your face."

"It's fine," San says, bringing his hand up to his nose, gazing at it curiously before lapping it up. Wooyoung can see the instant change in San's expression, his eyes widening at the single taste of Wooyoung's come. "I... I can taste this."

"What?" With his body still sluggish, Wooyoung props himself up on his elbows. "You can?"

San nods. "I-It's not as good as an evil heart, but... it's good. Really good." He wipes the sides of his mouth and licks the back of his hand again, smacking his lips as if thoughtfully tasting it. "Maybe it's because I'm, y'know, a sex demon. I've just... never tasted it before. I usually take it inside me, and I've honestly never _seen_ it before."

"You've never seen come before?" Wooyoung questions. The more this demon admits to not knowing about sex, the more Wooyoung is tempted to just fuck him (or be fucked by him) and get things over with. Teach him everything.

Hell, Wooyoung would be a better sex demon than San.

San shakes his head defeatedly. "Well, now I have."

"And, uh, how was it?" Wooyoung asks, and this time, he has no idea what the answer will be.

After a several second pause and San's eyes traveling across Wooyoung's body again, he smirks that devilish smirk that Wooyoung has come to know well.

"I loved it."

***

After San leaves Wooyoung's apartment that night, he flies onto the nearest abandoned building and sits at the edge like he always does, with his legs dangling off, pointing at the streets below. His head is swollen with the images of Wooyoung beneath him, writhing and desperate. He remembers feeling the wetness of the lube and the substance (it wasn't come, but something else) leaking from the head of Wooyoung's cock, and while he might not have felt the temperature, he felt the _texture_ , the friction, everything that left Wooyoung a mess at his hands.

He didn't tell Wooyoung, but he got hard from it.

The only times he's gotten hard from feeding before were more like reflexive reactions, not necessarily because he was turned on. But seeing Wooyoung like that, his body sweaty and glossy from the lube, hearing his heart hammering inside him and his lungs begging for air, well, it has San worked up. A lot.

Maybe it's the unknown amount of years without actual sexual contact, but San's ridiculously hard, and Wooyoung's fast asleep, so he can't go back.

Shit.

He falls back against the roof, crawling back up until his legs are actually on the ground, and stares up at the night sky with lust in his brain and his cock rock hard in his pants.

"San."

Oh great.

"Not now, Seonghwa," San groans.

Seonghwa makes a noise of amusement, sitting down next to San and crossing his legs. "Not that I saw what happened, but I can make a pretty good assumption," the reaper says, eyes on his crotch. "That is certainly a sight."

"Don't fucking talk about it," San growls, crossing his own legs.

"Well, I will not ask about your, erm, _current_ situation, but rather, what made you like this, and how."

"You're basically asking about it," San points out.

Seonghwa scoffs. "If you are being technical, then yes. You were with Wooyoung, were you not?" San nods. "And he was able to make you feel this way."

Thoroughly frustrated, San sits up, though he keeps his legs together to mask the very prominent bulge in his pants. "Yes, he was, and now I can't stop thinking about it. Why do you even care? It's not like you're a sex demon. Do you even feel shit like that?"

"It is not that I _care_ , but it is perplexing, is it not? That a human was able to make you like this."

Of course, Seonghwa knows everything, but it's not a hard conclusion to draw. Nobody, a human especially, has ever gotten San aroused like this before, never clouded his mind with sex and the curiosity of what it's like to come, to feel that pleasure that San had witnessed in Wooyoung. This is probably the most San has ever thought about sex. _Ever._ And not sex for feeding, but sex for _pleasure._

Hearing Wooyoung moan like that and the way his body reacted to his touch, well, _that_ felt like pleasure.

"Yeah, it's _perplexing_." San slurs the word, making Seonghwa scowl at him. "But holy shit, Seonghwa, it felt good seeing him like that."

"What?"

Oh, right. San hadn't explained that. "He didn't get me off, but I got him off."

"Got him off?"

San wants to facepalm. "You know, make him have an orgasm."

"Ah," Seonghwa says. "I am unfamiliar with these terms, you know. But anyway, so you were able to make him, erm, have an orgasm. It is not surprising as a sex demon, no? I would imagine you would not have any trouble making a human do that."

"Just say come, Seonghwa," San says. "I made him _come._ " And just to elaborate, San clarifies that 'come' is a verb that means to have an orgasm but also acts as a noun that refers to what 'comes' out during an orgasm.

Seonghwa looks mildly horrified through the whole explanation. "And Wooyoung said _I_ don't know shit about sex. If only he knew about you," San says, scoffing.

"I am a reaper, San. I have no reason or desire to participate in sexual acts."

"Aren't you ever curious, though? Wait, do you even have a dick? You know, a penis?"

"I know what a... dick is, San," Seonghwa says defensively, though his uncomfortable tone speaks wonders. "And yes, I have one. I may be a demon, but I have a male form. Therefore, I do have a penis."

"Does it get hard?"

"San!" Seonghwa exclaims suddenly. "Where are all of these lewd questions coming from?"

Groaning, San rubs at his eyes and blinks back up at the black night. He's frustrated, _sexually frustrated_ , and hell, he's curious about everything now. All that's on his mind is _sex_. Sex for pleasure. Orgasms. Making people come. He wants to see it happen again.

Seonghwa is admittedly attractive, but San figures it's useless seducing a demon who feasts on souls and is probably immune to his tactics. When he thinks about it, Seonghwa probably hasn't even seen his own dick.

"I can't get it out of my head," San whines, palms rubbing his temples. "All I can think about is sex now. Just... sex. Getting fucked, doing the fucking, seeing and making people come. _I_ want to know what it's like to come. Can you believe it, me, a sex demon, has never once come in his entire existence. How weird is that?"

"Wooyoung did not, um, make you... come?"

"No," San sighs. "He said he didn't think he could since I don't feel temperature or whatever, and at one point I told him that I don't feel pleasure, so that also discouraged him. But now—" San opens his legs and gestures at his aching cock erect in his tight ass pants, "—obviously, I'm affected, and can probably feel pleasure."

Seonghwa stares at his crotch blankly, seemingly at a loss for words. "Does it hurt?" the reaper asks, tilting his head slightly.

"No? Not really. Just... uncomfortable. I mean, my pants are tight and my dick is pushing against them, so yeah."

Seonghwa looks back up at him with a raised eyebrow. "Then just take it out. I do not mind."

San coughs on nothing, not even on the air he doesn't need. He sits up, gaping at his reaper partner. "Are you telling me to take my dick out? And then what?"

Seonghwa shrugs. "It is just to relieve it from the confines of your tight pants."

"Seonghwa, you are telling me to take my pants off. And then what?" San repeats, looking at the reaper expectantly. "Are you going to leave? Stay? What's the point of taking my dick out?"

"So that you may orgasm. That is how you relieve that, right?"

San almost wants to laugh. He's sure Wooyoung would too. "Seonghwa, do you even know _how_ orgasms happen? I can't just take my dick out and come. There's more to it than that."

"Such as?"

Though San has never had to do so, he feels like he's explaining sex to a child. It's no surprise that Seonghwa has no experience with these types of things, but _god_ , he doesn't even know how orgasms _work_? For a demon who's been on Earth for a much longer time than San has, Seonghwa's knowledge regarding certain things (in this case, sex and modern slang) is virtually nonexistent. _That's_ what's surprising San.

"You have to stimulate it." With a frustrated grumble, San just thinks, _fuck it_ , and tears his pants off, leaving it bunched up next to him. He's sure the air would feel cold (right?) but all he's met with is his hard dick. Well, Seonghwa was right; it's relieved of its tight confines, just sticking straight up at the sky in front of his reaper partner who has probably never seen an erect penis in his life. "There. Here's my dick. Happy?"

Wooyoung would surely be howling with laughter. Seonghwa, on the other hand, looks slightly mortified, eyes wide as he stares at the incubus's completely erect penis. "You know, if you keep staring at my dick like that, I'll probably go flaccid. Great thinking, Seonghwa," San says half-sarcastically.

"I... apologize? Forgive my reaction, but I have not seen an erect penis before."

Well, that confirms San's suspicions.

And just as he said, he can feel himself already begin to lose his hard-on. Having his dick exposed in front of another demon who knows absolutely nothing about sex isn't exactly a turn on. Well, at least he got _some_ relief from it.

"So," Seonghwa says once San tucks his dick back into his pants, "how do you stimulate a penis to the point of orgasm?"

"I don't... fucking hell, Seonghwa. You touch it, stroke it, suck on it, whatever. One of these days, _you_ should get laid just so you know what it's like to even _have_ a dick."

Seonghwa blinks, stares at San for a solid ten seconds, and says, "Get laid?"

If he could, San would throw Seonghwa off this fucking building.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [twitter](https://twitter.com/galaxysangs)


	5. quīnque

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i'm putting this as a warning for this chapter and the rest of the chapters: all chapters will have some sort of mention/discussion of rape, murder, and pedophilia as those things usually come up whenever san's victims are discussed
> 
> in this chapter, there's some smut towards the end, telepathic dirty talk and... surprise handjob ;)

When Wooyoung wakes up, he's under his covers, which smell heavily of cinnamon and vanilla. He blinks, wiping the crust from his eyes and groaning as he sits up, the sunlight barely peaking through the curtains. He's definitely a bit woozy, not hungover, but his body feels like sludge and his limbs want to fall off. He turns his head from side to side, taking a moment to get himself together when he remembers.

Holy shit, San made him come last night, and made him come _hard._

"Shit," Wooyoung mutters to himself, a sudden adrenaline rush propelling him out of bed. "Shit shit shit shit."

As soon as he hits the floor, he realizes he's still naked. "Fuck!" Though his clothes are just off to the corner of the room and he could just easily change into some new clothes, the fact that he's still naked is the reminder that yes, it did happen, and yes, a demon made him come.

Once he's dressed, he walks out to the kitchen where Yunho and Mingi are already eating breakfast, snickering among themselves. "What's so funny?" Wooyoung questions, plopping himself down next to Mingi's seat.

Mingi's cheeks inflate with laughter around his cereal. "Oh, nothing," Yunho sighs, though his mouth's shape states otherwise. "Just, y'know, heard you getting up to a little fun with San last night."

Wooyoung groans and lets his forehead hit the table, feeling Mingi's not-so-comforting hand pat his back. "It's okay, Wooyoungie," Mingi says once he swallows. "If anything, we're happy for you. San's fucking _hot_."

Well, Wooyoung can't disagree with that. "Plus, we've been trying to get you laid for a while, remember? It's about time you had a little fun. Do you feel a little less stressed now?" Yunho asks, leaning onto the kitchen island.

Wooyoung doesn't know how Yunho could ask that considering they were all just informed of the news of Jaewon's attack. Maybe it's because Yunho and Mingi didn't know him all that well, but the news was still pretty chilling. And to be honest, Wooyoung isn't exactly _less stressed_. After all, there's a demon present in his life who kills people and eats their hearts, and he thinks that's a _little_ stressful, but now, he's stuck with the memory of that demon above him, jerking him off, sucking his dick, and making him come.

He isn't exactly less stressed. He's fucked.

"Y-Yeah, I guess," Wooyoung lies.

"Well that doesn't sound convincing," Yunho says accusingly, turning around and grabbing a bowl for Wooyoung. He pours the same cereal Mingi's eating into it for Wooyoung to eat, what a gentleman. "Why, was he bad?"

"N-No, not at all," Wooyoung stammers as he watches Yunho pour the milk. "Just... it was a lot, I guess. You guys know I haven't done anything remotely sexual in a while. And yeah, trust me, I _know_ San is hot." It's an understatement, honestly. "So it was a bit nerve-wracking. Not to mention he has an _amazing_ body, so I felt kinda, I dunno, small. I guess I just couldn't understand why it was me of all people."

His roommates frown at him, knowing well enough about his internal struggles to know that he doesn't exactly have the highest self-esteem. Sure, he's hooked up with people in the past, but a lot of those people (including Wooyoung) had been slightly intoxicated, so maybe their blurry vision helped them find him attractive. Meanwhile, San, a whole ass sex demon with the visuals of a _god_ , got him off and enjoyed it(?).

"Wooyoung-ah, you're attractive. I don't know where you're getting the idea that you aren't from," Yunho says.

Wooyoung shrugs, already beginning to feel his shoulders shrink inward again. "But you saw San. He's way out of my league." Out of the human league, at that. Wooyoung, a human, can't compare to the looks of a demon who's made to seduce people.

"Okay, Wooyoung, if you're so unattractive, which you _aren't_ , what do you think that says about San? Was he drunk? Tipsy? I mean, you were, but if he wasn't drunk, which he didn't seem to be, then he hooked up with you all on his own. A hot guy, a _very_ hot guy, chose to hook up with you. He must think you're attractive." Though Mingi raises a good point, it just makes Wooyoung feel even smaller. For all he knows, San could've done it just because. After all, San said he was "curious." Perhaps doing this with him was just a way of subduing his curiosity.

Humans do it all the time. He doesn't see why a demon wouldn't.

Besides, Wooyoung couldn't tell if San really enjoyed it or not. The demon _did_ say he doesn't really feel pleasure. He could have just done what he did to get Wooyoung off, again, just to satisfy his curiosity.

"I don't know," Wooyoung whines, muffled by his head's position on the table.

"How did you even get involved with this guy?" Yunho asks. "You said he's a regular at the café, right? Did he ask you out or something?"

 _No, but he did give me a hundred thousand won._ "Yeah."

"See?" Mingi stands abruptly. " _He_ asked _you_ out. Wooyoung, I seriously don't know what goes on in that clueless head of yours. He _likes_ you, dude. He thinks you're attractive."

Wooyoung wouldn't go as far as to say San _likes_ him. More like puts up with him, probably. Plus, the hundred thousand won was most likely pity money anyway.

"So like... what did you two _do_?" Mingi's tone switches drastically, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Knowing that his roommates won't stop bothering him until they get an answer, he says, "He jerked me off and gave me a blowjob."

"Oooooh!" Mingi sits back down. "Details, details."

 _Well, first of all, San is a sex demon but actually doesn't know shit about sex. He'd never even kissed anyone before. He also doesn't feel temperature, so I had him use warming lube. It still felt really good though, and he doesn't have a gag reflex since he doesn't need to breathe, so his head was insane. And to top it all off, even though he can't taste anything besides the hearts he eats, he could taste my come._ "It was good."

"Well, duh," Mingi says, rolling his eyes. "But like... _how_ was it?" Yunho is looking at him just as expectantly.

"Why are you two so invested in my sex life?"

"Well, considering your sex life was sort of nonexistent prior to you getting a blowjob from this _extremely hot_ guy, we're a little curious, to say the least," Yunho says, smirking. "But if you really don't want to give us details, we'll just have to wait until you bring him back here again and hear them for ourselves."

"Who said I'm gonna bring him back here?" Wooyoung exclaims.

"With how you sounded last night, Wooyoungie," Mingi says, slapping him on the back, "you're _definitely_ going to bring him back for another round."

Wooyoung scowls, sort of wishing he had San's claws so he could tear his roommates' hearts out himself.

\---

Classes start back up eventually, a week after Jaewon's attack, but the tension is heavy and classes are silent. The professors carry on with their lectures, but no one wants to participate in the discussions. There's too much apprehension, too much fear. Wooyoung understands, since he remembers the initial fear he felt hearing the news despite knowing the attacker, but nobody knows about what Jaewon did.

Until, the statement becomes public.

There's no news report on public television about it, but an article surfaces along with a transcript and narrated video of Jaewon's confession.

A confession.

Wooyoung, Yunho, and Mingi all watch it together one Thursday night.

_"I can't remember what happened to me. All I remember is seeing red. But maybe these wounds are my punishment, retribution for my crimes. Maybe God inflicted these wounds upon me because... I killed my sister. Yang Minha, my dearest sister, is dead because I killed her. If someone did attack me, they were right in doing so. Not only have I killed, I have assaulted. I have abused. I have raped. It is all I can think about now. I am constantly plagued by the memories of everything I've done, now that I can see no more. Everything..."_

Yunho slams the laptop shut. He chokes out a sigh, standing up and pacing the living room. "God, that's so fucked," he says, his voice breaking. "That's so fucked up! How was Jongho friends with this guy?"

"I don't think anybody knew, maybe except for... his victims. Nobody spoke up, I'm guessing," Mingi says. "You know... I seriously think that this killer's victims are all like that. All fucked up rapists, sexual predators, abusers, people like that. But like I've said, how does the killer _know_ all these things?"

_He can hear their hearts._

"A lot of victims don't speak up," Mingi mumbles, sounding on the verge of tears. "I think this killer is serving justice to people like this. I mean, the killer cut Jaewon's _dick_ off, probably so he can't rape people anymore."

_That's right._

"I just... I don't know what to think! It's so fucked up that Jaewon did all that, but having his tongue, eyes, and dick mutilated like that? I just... god _dammit_!"

"Yunho," Wooyoung speaks up, his mind traveling back to a certain conversation he had with San, "do you think evil people like Jaewon deserve to suffer? To die?"

Yunho sighs, his head falling back. "I don't know, Wooyoung. I wouldn't want anybody to suffer like this. All of Jaewon's victims, his _sister_ , none of them deserved to be hurt. Just... if he hadn't done those things in the first place, maybe my answer to that question would be no."

"So... you do think they do?" Wooyoung asks.

Letting out an exhausted chuckle, Yunho says, "Yeah, I do."

"What the killer does is fucked up, yeah," Mingi adds, "but so is what all of their victims do. Somehow, the killer knows about their victims, and attacks them as they see fit."

"And to think this... this _psycho_ was a student at our school?" Yunho's voice breaks again as he wipes his hands down his face. "I guess you really can't trust anybody, huh? Jongho was friends with this guy. God, I can't begin to imagine how sick Jongho must feel right now."

"Jongho's a good guy," Mingi says. "Jaewon must have put on a _really_ good front to befriend him."

Wooyoung bites his tongue, knowing very well that this is all San's doing, that all of the kills have been his doing, and meanwhile, Yunho and Mingi don't have a clue. He figures they must be terrified, just like he had been, and if only they knew that the killer had been in their apartment.

Yunho was able to answer the question so easily, it makes Wooyoung wonder what San would say to him.

One thing Wooyoung puts on his mental to-do list: talk to San.

Another thing: maybe get laid (preferably by San).

***

San can feel the nervous heartbeats of the campus, and understandably so. Every student around him breathes with caution, their hearts barely containing their fear. After all, one of the university's students has confessed to his sins, all of them, and while he might not have been specific, it's enough to frighten the entire student body, guys and girls alike. They all pace the walkways with shaky fingers and tentative steps.

A killer, a _human_ killer, assaulter, and rapist, had been walking among them. It's as if nobody trusts anybody anymore.

Part of San wishes he could let them all know that not everyone is like Jaewon. Sure, there are the assholes of the world, but the assholes aren't necessarily _evil._ Their intentions may not be amiable, but they don't go out of their way to hurt others. They don't kill. They don't assault for no reason. They don't rape.

San can hear it all. He can hear the truest evil intentions of the human body, and from what San can tell, there isn't another one within range. It stands to reason, however, why everyone is afraid. It makes him wonder about Jaewon's friends, if any of them knew what he'd done. If any of them remain by his side even after his confession, they might as well have evil hearts as well.

Wooyoung told him to wait for him to get out of class at two, which is what he's doing, but he watches the stray students pass him by, earbuds and polished sneakers. He must look somewhat out of place, what with his formal-ish getup, all black and neat with matching glossy black boots that are probably expensive. As someone who has the power to persuade, he could have any attire he desires. He just thinks black suits him; after all, he's a demon. If anything, he looks like a young professor, he thinks.

Ever since that one student approached him at the map, he's been trying to avoid it happening again, so he keeps his head down and eyes on his phone despite there being absolutely nothing to do on the practically useless device. He only uses it to text Wooyoung. He doesn't even have Seonghwa's number, since the reaper is absent more than not, and he's sure that there's nothing else on the phone that would amuse him.

However, he's sure that the more time he spends with Wooyoung, the more he'll discover about the wondrous world of modern technology (and just the modern world in general). God, he feels old, but at least he's not Seonghwa.

He's not sure what Wooyoung wants to see him for, if anything in particular, since they're still technically "hanging out," but San hasn't seen him for a few days, not since the whole sexual encounter that gave San a huge boner with no way of relieving it besides Seonghwa staring at it. However, he _is_ sure that Wooyoung will mention Jaewon, as that's all people seem to be talking about now. With all the heartbeats and airflow, San can hear whispered conversations between students, meaningless gossip sometimes, but mostly mentions of Jaewon's name and the words "fucked up."

San could go on about how Jaewon's acts are more than just "fucked up," but alas, he digresses.

As he's staring at nothing on his phone screen, he can't help but smile a little while he listens to Wooyoung's heartbeat. Among the sea of rhythms he hears, he can now distinguish Wooyoung's, the one he's come to know so well, that stands out above all the rest. His calming ocean waves and the melody of his lungs, San can hear it, lock onto it, and drown out the world.

When the class ends and students begin filing out of the room, the gorgeous sounds grow closer until Wooyoung eventually emerges, greeting San with a smile. "Hi Sannie!"

San stands up, raising an eyebrow. "Sannie?"

"O-Oh, sorry. It just kind of slipped out." Wooyoung winces slightly, averting his eyes. "I won't call you that, sorry."

"It's fine," San reassures, chuckling. "I don't mind. If Seonghwa were to call me that, however, I wouldn't be so nice."

They start walking in a familiar direction, back to civilization, when Wooyoung tells San he has work. "It's only for a few hours," he says. "I'm not even working until closing. Just until six, and then we can do whatever."

"Is there anything you have in mind?" San asks.

_Um, just y'know, kinda wanna get in your pants._

San blinks, turning his head left to right, wondering just where in the world that came from. It was unmistakably Wooyoung's voice. "No, nothing really," Wooyoung says, though there's a lapse in his heart. "We could just go for a walk, talk about stuff. Oh! I've been craving ice cream, maybe we could go get some, even though you can't taste it. My treat this time, since I feel bad that you paid for dinner last time."

Pushing the voice he'd heard back into his head, San snaps back to reality, turning to look back at Wooyoung. "It's no problem at all, Wooyoung. Remember, I can't even taste it, so what's the point of you paying for something that I don't get anything out of?"

"G-Good point."

It's cute, San thinks, whenever Wooyoung stutters like that. He does it a lot, and his heart sometimes matches the skip in his words. "So, uh, yeah. If you wanna just chill in front of the window like you normally do while you wait for me to get out, you can do that. Or just go wherever and I'll text you when I'm out. Up to you. You don't have to wait for me."

"It's fine, Wooyoung," San says again, still smiling. "I'll wait for you. I don't have anything else to do."

"Oh, o-okay."

Perhaps socializing in the human world is different. Perhaps people see Wooyoung's stutter or his rambling as annoying, and that's why he gets the labels he does. San doesn't think it's fair, however. Beneath the shrunken shoulders and nervousness is a pure soul, one whose heart beats as boldly as the ocean, constantly moving and beautiful. Not everyone has a soul like Wooyoung's. San wishes that Wooyoung could somehow see that, hear his own heart and the way it beats, and not feel the need to hide.

San likes it when he doesn't. He likes it when Wooyoung trips, when he laughs, when his heart stutters along with his mouth. He wants Wooyoung to break free from whatever makes him feel inferior to the rest of the human race.

All human hearts beat, but no two hearts beat the same, and Wooyoung's is the only one that San has familiarized himself with.

Wooyoung is unique. San wants him to be able to see that it's not a bad thing.

\---

When San and Wooyoung enter the café together, Yeoju is there as she usually is, but as soon as her eyes land on the duo, she tilts her head and smirks. It's not busy at all, maybe one or two customers, San now being one. Having her memory wiped twice, she recognizes San as the regular who sits by the window, but doesn't know his name or anything else. She doesn't recall the money he'd given her to give to Wooyoung, nor does she remember the day when Wooyoung was arrested.

"Wooyoung-ah!" she calls out. "Good to see you, as always. Who's your friend?"

"Oh, ah," Wooyoung says, removing his jacket, "this is San. You recognize him, right?"

"Yeah, you always sit by the window and order a dark roast," she says, already beginning to pour him a mug. "You befriended Wooyoungie here?" She turns around, only to notice that Wooyoung has already disappeared into the back.

"Ah, yeah. We, um, saw each other while we were both out and I recognized him and vice versa, and just kind of hit it off."

"Well, good for you two," Yeoju says, smiling genuinely. "Is there anything else I can get for you today?"

"No, thanks," San says, already taking out his wallet to pay. He leaves a generous tip, not the hundred thousand won that he gave Wooyoung, but one that's enough to buy about ten coffees.

He takes his usual seat at the window near the front, watching the pedestrians and bikers and cars go by. The occasional honks, the angry yelling, the faint heartbeats of everyone outside. Everything vibrates in San's ears, but of course, Wooyoung's heartbeats stands above all.

_Ah, shit._

San's ears perk up. That's _definitely_ Wooyoung's voice, like he'd heard not too long ago.

_God, if you can hear me, please just let me be a barista with Yeoju. I'm way better at making lattes than doing dishes, and I don't even understand how that's fucking possible._

San glances around; no one else seems to be hearing this. Yeoju is behind the counter wiping down bottles and cups, the other customers are occupied with their technology, but Wooyoung is in the back.

The thing is, San is well aware that he can communicate telepathically, but he didn't know it goes both ways. Not to mention he's not even _trying_ to hear Wooyoung's thoughts. To test it, he even tries to hone in on Yeoju, listening out for her heart and thoughts, but all he can hear is her heart. No thoughts to be heard.

He'd briefly talked to Wooyoung like this, but only because his mouth was stuffed with dick. He's sure the human heard him, as Wooyoung had replied to his telepathy verbally, but he's surprised he hadn't brought it up. Maybe he'd been too focused on the fact that a demon was sucking his dick to really pay attention, or he just didn't care. Or maybe he forgot.

Whatever the case, San pushes the strange occurrence to the back of his head. After Wooyoung's second thought, he doesn't hear another, just the usual sound of Wooyoung's bold heart and melodious lungs. He sighs, turning back to the window and gazing out of it.

For the first time in a little while, all the heartbeats San hears are calm. Good. He's sated and could probably go a whole month without feeding thanks to all the energy Jaewon had given him. With no evil hearts to be heard, maybe San can finally _relax_ , especially with Wooyoung around. Until the next evil heart comes around, San doesn't see why he can't take some time to himself and enjoy Wooyoung's company. Besides, this is the most socializing he's done in his entire existence, so he might as well enjoy the tranquility while he can.

"Sannie!" a familiar voice rings, making him turn in its direction. "I'm done!"

Right, time flies by. His mug is empty, though he doesn't remember taking sips of his coffee. Wooyoung's jacket and backpack have reappeared on his body, and he's smiling brightly, as San likes to see. "Alright," San says, standing, "you said you wanted ice cream, right?"

"Well, yeah, but I should probably eat dinner first. And I'll buy myself dinner this time, I feel bad when you spend money on me."

"And as I've said before, I don't mind spending money on you, and it's pointless for you to spend money on me for things I can't taste or have any use for." Wooyoung pouts at that, already making his way out the door with the demon following closely behind.

"W-Well, fine. I'm, uh, probably just gonna get something less expensive than last time. I know this really good hole in the wall near here."

This "hole in the wall" is actually a restaurant that's so tiny that it may as well be a literal hole in a wall. When they push past the curtains, San can see a total of four people, one customer and three employees, two of which are cooks. "I come by here sometimes when I want something filling but not hard on the wallet. Probably just gonna get some ramen and chicken, and then we can get ice cream after, sound good?" San nods, smiling, and they take their seats by the wall.

San likes it when Wooyoung's face ignites with happiness when he smells good food. It makes him wish he could smell it too, experience what the human nose can experience. He envies Wooyoung in that sense, being able to enjoy such little things like the aroma of delicious food. The most he can do is hear the way Wooyoung's heart picks up once the food is placed in front of him and watch the way Wooyoung's mouth widens into an excited grin.

Though he can't smell the food, he smiles just like Wooyoung, because seeing Wooyoung smile makes him smile. Especially when Wooyoung takes that first bite; his entire face glows, and he smiles with his cheeks full of noodles, looking adorably ridiculous with the curly strands dangling from his mouth.

It's cute. Wooyoung is cute.

San can admire an attractive human when he sees one. Dongsuk had been undeniably attractive, with facial features like that of a celebrity. The man before him, whose name San still never bothered to learn, had been wealthy, well-put together, and exquisite when it came to his attire. Jaewon, though less upscale in terms of appearance, had a certain college student charm to him, an innocent face before San mauled it, and a neat appearance overall.

Wooyoung is unlike all of them in that he _is_ innocent with a face to match. He's not swimming in money as his outfits definitely present, but his wardrobe has a simple, wholesome appeal. San remembers Mingi mentioning that Wooyoung has a pair of baggy overalls that he likes to wear over a pink sweater, and if that doesn't spell wholesome and adorable, San doesn't know what does.

In addition to his beautiful, oceanic heart and harmonious lungs, Wooyoung is attractive in a way that San normally doesn't see. What San sees is the lavishly evil, the ones with handsome faces but the worst intentions. Wooyoung, on the other hand, has a handsome face, and the best, purest intentions that San has ever sensed.

Wooyoung is _cute._

"—I mean, it's probably a good thing that you can't smell, like, bad things, because... um, hello? Universe to San?"

Wooyoung's voice brings him back to the present, where his brain takes a few seconds to catch up because time really _does_ fly by for him. When he glances down, Wooyoung's bowl is nearly empty, his small plate of chicken bare. "Oh, sorry," San says, "I, uh, kinda spaced out."

The human smiles, shaking his head as he tosses his noodles. "It's okay. People tend to do that when I talk."

San doesn't smile at that. "I'm really sorry."

"Don't apologize," Wooyoung says, his tone genuine. "I know, it's hard to listen to me talk."

"It's not, Wooyoung," San says firmly. "I'm sorry I spaced out. You can continue where you left off. I'll listen this time."

Wooyoung stares at him with an unreadable expression, the chopsticks in his hands completely still. "A-Are you sure?" the human speaks, shrinking again, and San just wants to scream _stop doing that_ , because he can't stand it. He wants Wooyoung to be as bold as his heart is.

"Yes, I'm sure. What were you saying while I was spaced out?"

Blinking a few times, Wooyoung picks up where he left off, talking about how the sense of smell is great when things smell great, but that the opposite is true as well. How bad things smell bad, and that San having no sense of smell would be beneficial in that sense. Of course, what Wooyoung is saying makes sense (for the most part, since San still can't imagine what good _or_ bad things smell like), but if San is being honest, he'd still rather be spaced out just so he can keep admiring Wooyoung.

Admiring? Is that what he's doing?

What a strange thing to do.

San insists on paying, as does Wooyoung, but the human is the first to shove his money into the poor waitress's hands, making San pout at him, but he just smiles victoriously and basks in the glory of overpowering San (in this sense, at least, which is probably the only sense in which Wooyoung could ever overpower a demon). San does, however, leave a massive tip unbeknownst to Wooyoung before they exit the place, grinning to himself as he trails behind the human.

"So, ice cream next?" San questions.

"Yup."

_And hopefully we can fuck afterwards._

"What?"

"What?" Wooyoung questions. "What do you mean, 'what?'"

"Oh, nothing."

Raising an eyebrow, Wooyoung shrugs it off, but San sure doesn't.

Why the hell does he keep hearing Wooyoung's thoughts? And more importantly, Wooyoung wants to fuck?

Well, while it's not entirely surprising, it sure made San choke a little bit.

The ice cream place Wooyoung takes San to is a colorful little shop, painted all sorts of pastel with striped garments on the outside and polka dot flooring on the inside (what a combination), and San's all black attire is quite the stark contrast. He feels a bit out of place, almost. He definitely gets a few stares from customers and employees alike, and the place is fairly busy, so it's safe to say that San draws quite the attention to himself.

San's eyes browse over the ice cream freezer, reading each of the labels for their assigned tubs. Some have chunks in them, some of them are colored real funky, and some are just a solid color, mostly within the ranges of white and brown. No black ice cream to be seen. Damn.

"Do you want any?" Wooyoung asks despite knowing well enough San can't taste it.

Maybe he's just asking for the hell of it, to help him fit in, or so he can experience more "textures."

"No, I'll just have a bite of yours, if that's alright," San replies.

"Okay! I'll be sure to get three scoops then. Get your wallet out, babe."

Babe? The name stirs up something in San's gut. He quite likes the sound of Wooyoung calling him babe. He wonders when Wooyoung got so brave to call him that.

San learns that Wooyoung doesn't like chocolate. He gets a scoop of vanilla, banana, and peanut butter ("Like a peanut butter banana sandwich!" Wooyoung whispers excitedly, though San has no idea what he's talking about), all of which are probably delicious, not that San would ever know, but Wooyoung is practically bouncing with how excited he is, so San is more than happy to pay for it. They sit at a table near the front window, much like where San sits at the café, but the streets are less busy.

San tries a single bite of the ice cream for the "texture" of it. Wooyoung was right; it _does_ melt in his mouth and glides down his throat smoothly, but of course, he still can't taste it or feel how it's cold. According to Wooyoung, ice cream is "sweet" and cold, whatever "sweet" means. San assumes it's a good thing considering how Wooyoung looks when he eats it.

The two are silent for the most part while Wooyoung devours his ice cream, but for some reason, San can't seem to hear another one of Wooyoung's thoughts no matter how hard he tries. His specialty doesn't reside in telepathic ability, which is why it might be so spotty. He's able to communicate through it, but _usually_ can't hear thoughts in response (how useless is _that_?), and now, he's hearing Wooyoung's thoughts without even trying to.

And when he does try to, he doesn't hear anything. Is the telepathic reception bad around here or something?

Still, Wooyoung's _"and hopefully we can fuck afterwards"_ has San intrigued. While the human is occupied with his ice cream, San eyes him up and down, smirking to himself as he remembers how he'd been just a few nights ago. If he can get Wooyoung like that again, he certainly wouldn't mind it at all, especially since their last encounter resulted in San's unresolved erection that wasn't just a product of instinct. No, San felt _pleasure._

Pleasure in seeing Wooyoung a sweaty mess beneath him, wanting to come while looking so helpless, his pretty moans like the most addictive song. He imagines Wooyoung would look even better if or when they actually _fuck._ San is shooting for _when_ , however.

As a sex demon, getting Wooyoung in bed again shouldn't be hard. Hell, San could probably get Wooyoung in bed without the whole "sex demon" even being a factor in it. From what Wooyoung's thinking, he could definitely do it tonight.

"Hey, Wooyoung."

The human glances up, his spoon still sticking out from his mouth. "Yeah?"

And as if the Devil hates him, Wooyoung's phone rings. "Hold that thought," he says, digging into his pocket to fetch it.

_You hold yours, too._

Frowning, Wooyoung answers his phone with his suspicious eyes locked on San. "Yunho, what is it?"

Not once do San's eyes leave Wooyoung, but it's hard to focus on eye-fucking him while Yunho is screaming over the receiver so loudly that San can hear it. "Wooyooouuung, the internet's down and Mingi's losing his mind because he can't watch his favorite anime!"

"Can't this wait until—"

"No! We're both going insane over here! Netflix doesn't even work! Come on, you're the nerdy one who knows how to fix it, so get your ass back here and help us!"

"There are YouTube tutorials for—"

"YouTube doesn't work, _hello_!"

Wooyoung lets out a frustrated sigh, tossing his head back as his eyes squeeze shut. Though outwardly amused, San's inner self is screaming just as loudly as Yunho. "I'm out with San right now," Wooyoung hisses, and that makes San chuckle.

"Great, maybe he can help too!" Oh, lord.

"Just... fine, I'll be there as soon as I can. In the meantime, please don't do anything that would warrant having the cops called."

"No promises! Love you!" San hears the phone beep a few times before Wooyoung finally lowers the phone from his ear, sighing.

"Cheap bastards can't use up a little data to watch a goddamn YouTube tutorial," he mutters. "I'm really sorry, San. I mean, you're welcome to come back with me, but with how Yunho and Mingi are—"

"It's fine," San cuts in. He really _could_ go back with Wooyoung to his place, but what fun is being alone with him when they aren't _really_ alone? Yunho and Mingi seem like lovely people, nothing against them, but having cockblocking roommates must be somewhat annoying, San thinks. He'd been lucky the last time, since they were both inebriated and possibly asleep, but now, they're frantic and probably wide awake from the internet being down.

Just his luck.

He feels really guilty, knowing that Wooyoung wants to get into his pants tonight, but maybe it would be best when Yunho and Mingi _aren't_ around. Technically, he could brainwash them, but he's really trying to limit his interference with the minds of anybody close to Wooyoung, now that the human is (mostly) safely secured into his existence. He really doesn't want to cause any more confusion than he needs to.

He can just try another time.

***

Fuck Jeong Yunho and Song Mingi. Fuck both of them. Fuck them from both ends. Just. Fuck. Yunho. And. Mingi.

Wooyoung is livid when he bursts through the door to their apartment. His roommates are huddled in the corner of their living room by the router, poking at it and staring at it like Dumb and Dumber (which, they seriously are. How is Yunho considered one of the smartest guys on campus when he doesn't have a lick of common sense?). Throwing his backpack next to the sofa, Wooyoung shoves past his roommates without a word. "Nice to see you too!" Mingi greets sarcastically.

"Fuck both of you," Wooyoung grumbles, examining the router.

"Aw, did we interrupt your little date?" Yunho coos, poking into Wooyoung's side, who just elbows him in the cut.

"Yeah, you did, you stupid cockblockers." There's a moment of silence between Tweedledumb and Tweedledumber, and honestly, Wooyoung can't tell which is which.

The router seems fine, as all the necessary lights are on, but the modem is not fine. Some of the lights are blinking, ones that shouldn't be. "Have you done anything to it? Like, try to reset it, power it on and off, that kind of thing?" Wooyoung asks.

Yunho shakes his head. "No, we just noticed that the internet wasn't working and didn't want to touch anything because we didn't want to make it worse."

Wooyoung scoffs, pulling the plug from the modem. "Well, the internet wasn't working to begin with, so there really couldn't be anything worse in that aspect. The worst you could've done is, like, smash the goddamn thing." He waits for a solid fifteen seconds before plugging the cord back into the modem, and lo and behold, after about thirty more seconds, all of the correct lights flicker to life. "There, try it."

Both roommates whip out their phones, their faces lighting up at the exact same time. "Hey, Twitter works again!" Yunho exclaims, tossing his phone onto the couch and promptly tackling Wooyoung to the ground. "Thank you, Wooyoungie!"

"I'm never forgiving you for this," Wooyoung says, struggling to push Yunho off of him. "You guys owe me. I was _this_ close to getting San back here—"

Yunho's handle on Wooyoung loosens as he slowly begins to connect the dots. " _Oh._ " Wooyoung brutally pushes Yunho off him, which is an accomplishment in and of itself considering Yunho is much, much taller than he is. "S-Sorry about that, Youngie."

"You know what, forget it." Wooyoung stands, only to be caught by the wrist by none other than Tweedledumber (Mingi, Wooyoung decides).

"Really, we're sorry. If we'd known you were trying to get San in bed, we would've just left and let you two have the place—"

"Yeah, fucking right. I _told_ you guys I was on a, uh, sorta date with him, and you guys screamed at me to come back anyway. You two owe me."

"He could've come back with you! I even said so—" Yunho argues.

"Yeah, but then he said that it's fine, that I should probably go back and help you guys and that he didn't want to get in the way. And now, he probably doesn't _want_ to sleep with me because you two dickheads don't know how to behave properly!"

Yunho and Mingi exchange nervous glances, their faces washed with shame. "We're... really sorry. We promise you, we'll leave you two alone one of these days so you can go as hard as you want," Yunho mumbles.

"Whatever." Wooyoung picks up his backpack and heads for the shower, ignoring the remorseful stares from his dumbass roommates.

While he's stripping himself of the day's clothes, he finally has the time to reflect, remember everything that happened with San because for some goddamn reason he can't process anything that happens when he's around San because it's all just _San San San_ and how fucking sexy the demon is, how he just wants San to lay him down and fuck his brains out, how fucking _nervous_ he feels around San, so much that his voice raises by seventeen octaves and he stutters much more frequently than usual. His brain doesn't know how to _function_ when San is around him, and he doesn't know if that's because San is deliberately using his powers to fuck with his brain or if it's because he's just massively horny.

Maybe both. But Wooyoung's too focused on how hard his dick is because now, San is all he can think about, that voice in his head, that teasing tone he'd heard earlier, and that's when he remembers it from a few nights ago.

He'd heard San in his head. That was something new.

He didn't even ask San about it because he fucking _forgot._ San just makes him so nervous, even more jittery than he normally is, that he almost loses his entire sense of self and recollection. He supposes telepathy is a normal demon thing (right?) and that San used it since his mouth was occupied. Wooyoung, on the other hand, half-mindedly replied to him out loud because all he could really process in that moment was how San's mouth felt around him, not the fact that a voice was communicating with him inside his head, _San's_ voice, above all. He really couldn't _think_ , let alone use his brain to reply to San like that.

Even as he's showering, he can feel San's hands on him, the hot water adding to the effect, making it seem as if San's hands actually have temperature. It makes him wonder how San would be if they were together right now, all steamy and wet, hands going places where pleasure lies, feeling each other up—

Fuck Yunho and Mingi. They better own up to their promise and leave the apartment one of these days so San can fuck him up so good he can't walk, see, think, or talk straight for a week.

But for now, at least for tonight, Wooyoung has his hands and a little friend that Mingi got him over the summer.

***

San would be lying if he said he isn't a little disappointed with how the night went. Everything had been wonderful up until the phone call from Wooyoung's... special roommate. While San isn't hard thinking of all the possibilities that could have been if Yunho didn't so rudely interrupt, he feels like he could be, or should be... he just isn't. He wonders why. He's pretty sure humans get hard easily just thinking about these sorts of things, so why isn't he?

Well, at least dusk is gorgeous tonight. The sky is painted a shade of indigo, with the city skyline acting as its stars, spotlights and neon signs as far as the eye can see. The building San has chosen for the night is particularly tall, and it might actually be occupied, not abandoned. Oops.

Oh well, the view is nice, and if anybody walks up he can just tell them to leave (and purposely fall down the stairs if he's feeling extra mean).

"San." Seonghwa greets him the same way he always does, out of the blue and monotone.

"Oh, Seonghwa, didn't expect to see you here."

Seonghwa sits himself down next to the incubus. "Was that facetious?"

"I'll let you decide on that one," San says.

"Coming from you, I believe it is."

"Then why did you ask?"

Seonghwa sighs, allowing his body to fall back against the ground. "San, sometimes you are too much."

"Or you just have no idea how to pick up on social cues." San sits with his legs crossed, gazing down at the concrete roof of the building and drawing random characters with his finger. The sky only continues to darken, the lights now acting as the main source of luminescence. The moon is nowhere to be seen.

"Well, there is one thing I can pick up on at this time. You seem a bit distracted right now, is there a particular reason why?"

"Yeah, but if I tell you then it might just end up with my dick out again."

Unamused, Seonghwa replies, "You were with Wooyoung again, correct?"

"Yeah, but his roommates cockblocked me. I _would_ have gotten with him again if his roommate didn't call to complain about the internet being down and demand Wooyoung get home as soon as possible."

"Cockblock?" Seonghwa questions timidly.

"It's what it sounds like, Seonghwa. A cock, meaning a penis. Block, meaning preventing. Do the calculations."

Seonghwa huffs as San allows himself to fall back against the ground next to the reaper. "So Wooyoung's roommates, erm, cockblocked you. Is that why you are dazed?"

"Yes," San says. "And something weird has been happening lately."

"Care to explain?"

"I was getting to that," San snaps, blowing a stray strand of his bangs away from his face. "I've been hearing Wooyoung's thoughts recently, at random times. It's weird, like, my telepathy works one way for sure, in that I can communicate _my_ thoughts, but I never hear the the thoughts of others... I mean, apart from you that one time, but I'm assuming that's because, you know, you're also a demon."

Seonghwa hums, gesturing for San to continue. "It was weird. I could just randomly hear Wooyoung thoughts at some points in time, but when I _tried_ to hear them, I couldn't. I can't, like, read minds, so maybe that's why, but it was still weird."

"It is peculiar, yes," Seonghwa says, "but I would not say it is disadvantageous."

"Oh, not at all. It's just weird. Like, I did talk to him briefly using my telepathy since I had his dick in my mouth, but other than that... well, actually, I said _one_ thing to him while he was on the phone to tease him, but other than _that_ , I haven't really used my telepathy around him."

"I suppose I should get used to you using such bluntly vulgar language around me," Seonghwa sighs wistfully. "Well, I do not think that this occurrence is particularly harrowing, and I am sure you see it that way as well. Perhaps as time goes on, it will become clearer as to why this sort of thing is happening."

San nods, humming in agreement. The two demons gaze up at the night sky as they do so often, as it's all they can really do at a time like this, with their backs against concrete on one of the highest buildings in town. He wonders what Wooyoung would think of the view, if it's cold up here or not. He wonders if Wooyoung would like the city lights from a perspective like this, a perspective of a demon who's existed for some odd number of years with nothing else to do but admire nature and humanity for what they are (though San definitely looks down upon humanity more so than nature. After all, humans are kind of fucking up nature anyway).

He makes a mental note to take Wooyoung up one of these days.

"You have been spending a lot of time with Wooyoung, San," Seonghwa brings up suddenly. "I am not saying it is a bad thing, but it certainly is... out of the ordinary. How do you feel about it?"

"How do I feel about what? Hanging out with Wooyoung?"

"Yes. It seems like you have taken quite a liking to him and vice versa."

"Well—"

_Oh, fuck._

San sits up with a jolt. There's no way.

That's not Wooyoung's voice. There's _no way_.

_Oh, god, San._

Okay, that's definitely Wooyoung's voice. Sensing the shift in San's demeanor, Seonghwa sits up as well. "San? Is everything—" San shushes him quickly with a finger to his mouth, his ears at full attention.

This isn't his mind playing tricks on him. This is Wooyoung's voice, loud and clear in his eardrums. It's as if Wooyoung is right next to him, his voice explicit and present, not just some echo in the back of his head.

_Right there, San, fuck._

"Wooyoung?" San whispers aloud, brows furrowed. Seonghwa stares at him with inquisitive eyes. "Wooyoung, is that you?"

_San?_

"San, are you hearing Wooyoung right now?" Seonghwa asks, to which San quickly nods. "And you are speaking with him back?"

San gestures a hand for Seonghwa to shut up, his mind now fully focused. "Wooyoung, what are you doing right now?"

_San, is that really you? I... oh god, are you talking to me in my head again?_

"Maybe. But I'm curious," San says, his mouth curling into a smirk. Seonghwa gapes at him, astonished. "What _are_ you doing right now? Do tell."

_I... oh, fuck, I'm so embarrassed._

"It's alright, Wooyoung. I already heard your pretty moans." Seonghwa's eyes widen even more, panicked this time, but San just turns to him and grins, mischief in his devilish eyes. "I'm sorry I didn't get to go back with you. I really wanted to, believe me."

_I'm sorry Yunho and Mingi were being dumbasses. Just... I wish you were here right now too._

San chuckles to himself as Seonghwa glares at him questioningly, completely clueless as to what they're talking about, at least, from Wooyoung's end. "It's okay, Wooyoung. Next time, I promise. But... you still didn't answer my question. What are you doing?"

He hears Wooyoung chuckle nervously. _I'm... um, I'm touching myself._

"Where?"

_Y-You know where._

"San, what are you—?" San leans over and clamps a hand over Seonghwa's mouth, his mouth inadvertently getting close to the reaper's ear. Great.

He gets to tease Wooyoung and traumatize Seonghwa in the process.

"What are you thinking about, Wooyoung?" San asks as Seonghwa's hands come up to attempt to pry the incubus's hand off his mouth, but as it's been stated, San outranks Seonghwa in terms of physical strength.

_Thinking about... you fucking me._

"Oh?" Seonghwa's stifled protests are amusing him to no end, the stubby ends of his fingers having no effect on San's grip. "Tell me more, Wooyoung. Tell me what you're thinking about, and what you're doing."

 _I, um... I have this vibrator that Mingi got me a little while ago. I couldn't stop thinking about you, and when I got in the shower, I started fingering myself..._ San hums at the delicious image, Wooyoung's hair and body soaking wet, moaning as he fucks himself with his fingers to prepare for more, _...and I'm out of the shower now, but I just, um, I still couldn't stop thinking about you. God, San, I want you so bad._

"Believe me, Wooyoung, I want you just as badly." Seonghwa continues to cry in protest beneath San's hand, though he's given up on trying to physically resist. He lets out a frustrated sigh as he lets his arms drop limp next to him. San's lips are right by the shell of his ear, and he's certain that the reaper can feel all of his words, those _vulgar_ words, chipping away at his poor virginal mind. "Tell me what you're doing."

_I'm fucking myself with the vibrator I mentioned, been doing that for a few minutes before I started hearing you._

San chuckles. "I was actually the one who heard _you._ You were moaning my name."

_Shit, you heard that? W-Well, um, now you know why, ha._

San smiles, imagining how Wooyoung must be blushing right now, trying to hide even though he's not even there to be hidden from. "Does it feel good?" he asks.

_Y-Yeah, but I wish it were you instead. I want you to fuck me so hard I can't think straight._

San swallows as Wooyoung's voice really seeps in, that desperation he'd heard the one night they spent together. It's odd, hearing Wooyoung in such a way. He can hear all of the dips and rises in Wooyoung's voice as it trembles with arousal, almost like the human is right in front of him. He isn't whispering or anything like that, and his voice is loud and clear. It makes San wonder if these are his thoughts or if he's speaking aloud.

That's not his main focus, though. He's too busy focused on how Wooyoung sounds, all whiny and helplessly aroused, just for him.

"So you want me to fuck you, huh?" San asks, and Seonghwa lets out another muffled exclamation. "You don't know what you're asking for, Wooyoung."

 _I don't care, j-just want you to fuck me and make me come. Wanna feel you inside me—_ Wooyoung lets out a choked moan that sounds much different, fainter as opposed to his sentences, but still enough to get San interested. _Oh, fuck, San. Want you to fuck me so hard, fucking_ come _inside me._

San can feel a lurch in his pants. With how he's positioned against Seonghwa, his dick is probably growing against the reaper's hip. Seonghwa, on the other hand, remains completely still, his verbal and physical objections having ceased, figuring that trying to wiggle his way out of San's hold is practically useless. "How do you want me to fuck you?" San asks, and that earns a weak, futile kick from Seonghwa.

_I don't care how, just, everywhere, fuck, I don't know. Wanna come, 'm so close, San._

"Then come, Wooyoung," San hums against Seonghwa's ear, and the reaper whines beneath his hand. "Come for me. I want to hear you come undone."

The moans that San hears are much like the other, much more muffled than Wooyoung's voice, almost like they're being deliberately suppressed, and that's when San realizes that Wooyoung's voice must be his thoughts, and the moans... must be real moans.

They're absolutely _delicious._

"San—" Seonghwa's voice barely registers from underneath the incubus's hand.

All the while, San's head is tilted back, drinking in the sounds of all of Wooyoung's moan, the rises and falls, the way his voice hitches. He basks in it, how Wooyoung _wants_ him, like he can feel it without the human even being there.

"Wooyoung?" San says after the moans die down.

No response. Nothing.

"What the fuck?" Annoyed, San pulls his hand off of Seonghwa's mouth as the reaper clambers away, eyes widened in horror. "It just stopped! He came, and then I stopped hearing him!"

"San, what in the world was _that_? Why did you silence me like that?"

"Well I wasn't about to have _you_ cockblock me too!" San retorts, crossing his arms.

Lips curled in digust, Seonghwa brushes his arms and torso. "I feel... odd."

"Odd how?" San barely forms it as a question, scowling.

"San, this may sound quite, erm, strange, but the amount of sexual energy you exuded during that exchange was so intense that even _I_ , a being who has never once thought about sex, felt it." Seonghwa's eyes squeeze shut, shaking his head as if to block something out. "I do not know _what_ that was, but you are not an incubus for no reason. Your power is so great that I was able to feel it. And now, I am left with a... predicament." Biting his lip, Seonghwa's eyes fall, and San watches them land on his crotch where the reaper is sporting quite the arousal.

"You... got hard?" San questions, an eyebrow raised. "You, someone who reaps souls and has no use or desire for sex whatsoever, got hard from me dirty talking Wooyoung?"

"I-It was not the act of you talking to Wooyoung, but the power that you released, not to mention you were talking against my ear the entire time. That was... quite a feeling. I-I could not help it."

From confusion to amusement to arousal, San finds himself experiencing a range of feelings looking at Seonghwa, whose face is twisted with _something_ , either shame or disgust, but San can't deny that it's kind of hot, how he was able to make _Seonghwa_ of all beings feel this way.

And, well, he's hard too.

"Seonghwa," San says, treading the waters carefully, "if you're willing, I could try to show you how an orgasm _actually_ happens."

All possible emotion or feeling drains from Seonghwa's face. San doesn't know what's driving him forward, making him crawl towards his partner with the intention of _making him come_ , but that's what he finds himself doing. Seonghwa watches San like a lost puppy, even as the incubus climbs on top of him. His body falls easily like a crumbling pillar, completely pliant under San's touch.

"Didn't know it was possible to turn a reaper on," San murmurs, leaning down into Seonghwa's ear. "Don't know if I can make you come, but I like a challenge."

Seonghwa whimpers, _whimpers_ , at San's rasp, his lifeless form shuddering beneath the incubus, whose teeth are nipping at his ear, something that he's never experienced once in his entire existence. "San, y-you... you are exerting a large amount of sexual energy right now."

"You're in this position yet you still manage to sound like a pretentious asshole." San scoffs, though he's incredibly amused and turned on. "Come on."

The incubus sits up and tugs on Seonghwa's arm, and the reaper follows him obediently, ultimately ending up sitting facing away from him, his back to San's chest and body placed between San's legs. "Good boy, Seonghwa."

"B-Boy?" the reaper says incredulously, his voice but a mere peep. San smirks, wondering if Seonghwa has _ever_ been like this. If anyone has ever made Seonghwa _sound_ like this.

With San's deft fingers unbuttoning and sliding down Seonghwa's shirt, the reaper can't help but let his head lull back against San's shoulder. San can't hear a single breath or heartbeat, but he can _feel_ Seonghwa's arousal resonating inside him, like he's _meant_ to. It's energizing him, not necessarily _feeding_ him, but it's this, the spark and burning of sexual arousal, that San is meant to feel as an incubus.

Pleasure, San realizes.

Seonghwa's legs jerk as San's hand nears his fly. "S-San, w-wait a moment."

"Yeah?" San whispers against his ear, and Seonghwa hisses, squirming in San's arms.

"I-I do not know what to do. How do I... are you... are you going to make me orgasm?"

" _Come_ , Seonghwa. I'm going to try to make you _come._ " The word makes Seonghwa shudder again. "Demon to demon, I don't know if I'll be able to, or if you're physically capable of coming, but I'll try. If not, that's fine. But like I said, I like a challenge."

"H-How do I, err, come?" Seonghwa asks.

"Just relax, Seonghwa," San tells him, popping the button to his fly. "Let me take care of you."

San doesn't know what to expect when he finally relieves Seonghwa of his pants, but grabbing onto his cock, feeling it hard in his hand, sends another surge of energy through his body. Biting his lip, he squeezes Seonghwa's length, reveling in the noises the reaper is emitting. San smirks, letting his pointer finger glide across the tip of Seonghwa's cock, feeling some sort of liquid spread across it. He taps his finger on the head, letting the fluid stretch between them, glancing over Seonghwa's shoulder and watching with curiosity. It's not come from what San can tell, but rather a clear fluid that's thinner than come that _isn't_ come.

He'll have to ask Wooyoung what that is.

When San moves his hand down Seonghwa's length, the reaper seizes in San's arms, and the incubus watches are more of the clear fluid oozes out from the slit. "S-San," Seonghwa manages to speak, voice sounding dry.

"Glad to hear," San replies, sliding his hand up, squeezing the tip and collecting the fluid onto his finger. Curiously, he raises his hand to his mouth and licks it, but he tastes nothing. Maybe it's because Seonghwa's a demon, or because it isn't actual come, but whatever the case, San's still turned on, and Seonghwa is still a horny mess.

With how much fluid is leaking out, it doesn't take long for the slide on Seonghwa's cock to grow slicker, the sounds from San stroking his length getting increasingly more obscene. All the while, Seonghwa continues to moan, mostly in time with San's movements, his legs occasionally twitching.

"Feels good, doesn't it, Seonghwa?" San asks teasingly, drawing out another moan from the reaper.

"Y-Yes, San." Seonghwa swallows thickly.

While one hand jerks Seonghwa off, the other meanders up to his chest, fingers skimming over his nipples. "O-Oh, San," Seonghwa moans, eyes blissfully closed. His hips thrust up shallowly, seeking more friction from San's touch.

"You like this, don't you?" San asks, tongue gliding down Seonghwa's ear.

"I do," Seonghwa answers, almost sounding breathless.

The more San's hand moves on Seonghwa's cock, the more energy he can feel electrifying his body. His own cock his hard against Seonghwa's back, but the reaper's sounds are keeping him occupied, body and mind and all. It's almost as if he's getting off on _this_ , despite not feeling "close," whatever that may mean.

"Oh, S-San," Seonghwa suddenly keens, "something is... h-happening."

"You gonna come?" San asks, gently biting down on Seonghwa's earlobe. In response to Seonghwa's words, his hand speeds up, allowing more of the transparent fluid to flow until his cock is wet with it.

"I-I think so," Seonghwa says. "I do not know, b-but something... it feels like something is going to come out."

"Then let it." San's hand speeds up even further, with determination or lust, he doesn't know.

"San, f-feels so good, I—oh, _fuck_."

San strokes him through it all. Whereas Wooyoung's moans are sharp, almost whiny, Seonghwa's are low and long, almost guttural. It makes San's cock jump, how Seonghwa sounds when he comes, spurting white fluid all over his hand, head thrown back and mouth dropped open as his moans escape him. San watches in amazement as Seonghwa's chest _heaves_ , like he's _breathing._ "Shit, Seonghwa," San murmurs, watching as Seonghwa's cock releases _years_ worth of pent up sexual energy, having gone without being touched or relieved for so, so long.

San's entire hand is coated by the time Seonghwa is finished coming. His entire body trembles as he comes down from his high. "Oh, San," Seonghwa sighs, finally allowing his body to go limp. "That was... oh, my."

Wordlessly, San raises his hand back up to his mouth, this time covered in Seonghwa's come, and licks it.

San didn't know what to expect, but he certainly wasn't expecting Seonghwa's come to taste almost as good as an evil heart. It's similar to Wooyoung's, but the human's goes down smoother. The taste, however... this is something San could replace the hearts with.

(Well, not really, but it's still pretty damn good.)

"Are you satisfied, San?" Seonghwa asks, though it's not condescending as San would expect it to be. If anything, it sounds relieved.

"Yeah," San sighs, licking the rest of Seonghwa's come off his hand. "Very."

"G-Good." Once Seonghwa's body begins to respond again, he turns around to face San, though he's glancing down at his torso, where both his bare abdomen and shirt are also spotted with his come. "So that... was an orgasm?"

"Yeah, it was," San says. He glances down at himself, where his cock has begun to soften, which is... strange. Very strange.

It's also frustrating, because _when the fuck is he finally going to have an orgasm himself_?

Perhaps it's a result of this whole thing, where Seonghwa's orgasm may have indirectly fed him and satisfied his arousal; if so, that really took the fun out of all of this.

Well, San learned a few things from this.

One, demons _can_ come.

Two, _Seonghwa_ can come.

Three, apparently he exudes great sexual power that somehow gets even demons hot and bothered, whatever that entails.

And four, Wooyoung definitely wants to fuck him, and he will be more than happy to deliver the next time he sees him, as long as those two troublesome roommates don't cockblock him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> threw in some sanhwa smut in there bc why not lol
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/galaxysangs)


	6. sex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> funny bc sex is latin for six but also there's (some pretty emotional) sex in this chapter wOOooO 
> 
> but this chapter also contains graphic discussions/heavy implications of murder and rape, so beware. stay safe <3

Wooyoung comes home one night to Yunho and Mingi on the couch with a very distressed-looking Jongho squished between them. The young one has his face buried in his hands, his shoulders seemingly trembling, and it doesn't take long for Wooyoung to realize he's crying.

"What's wrong?" he asks, setting his backpack down next to the sofa.

"It's just... all the stuff that happened with Jaewon," Yunho explains while he rubs one hand on Jongho's shoulder. "After he confessed to his crimes, Jongho—"

"I felt fucking _sick_ ," Jongho interrupts, his voice crumbling. "I can't believe he deceived everyone for so long, and I can't believe I was willing to _defend_ him. What a sick, twisted fuck!"

Wooyoung sucks in his bottom lip, taking a seat on the ottoman. Jongho sniffles, clearly attempting to stifle the sobs that threaten to wrack his entire body. Wooyoung can't help but feel a little guilty; sure, what Jaewon did was beyond just 'fucked up,' but to be on the other end, the betrayal Jongho must feel, Wooyoung imagines it must be heartbreaking. If he were to find out Yunho or Mingi are secretly serial killers, he'd certainly feel more than just sick to his stomach.

"We're so sorry, Jongho-yah. We know that our condolences or apologies can't really fix anything, but..." Mingi sighs, rubbing Jongho's other shoulder.

"It's okay." Jongho looks up, sniffling again and wiping the tears from his eyes. "Thank you guys, though. Thanks for letting me cry. You know I don't do it often."

"We're here for you, bro," Yunho says, patting Jongho's shoulder as opposed to rubbing it comfortingly.

Wooyoung wonders if that means he'll be seeing Jongho in more often. It's not that he doesn't like Jongho or anything, he just doesn't know him that well. If he's friends with Yunho and Mingi, he must be at least a decent person, but there's residual guilt lingering in his stomach, knowing that his friend was mauled by the person (demon) Wooyoung is trying to lay. It makes him remember when he himself broke down in front of San, overwhelmed with uncertainty more than anything else, because despite knowing San doesn't attack for no reason, just having someone so nearby be a target to such a fate is enough to make Wooyoung feel like his entire body is being crushed.

He can only imagine what it must be like for Jongho. Finding out that one of your friends is a murderer, and then finding out that he's had three body parts removed as retribution. It's sickening, undoubtedly, but Wooyoung knows better than any of them do.

He will be the only human to know better than anyone else, so long as San doesn't bring any other mortal into his existence.

***

With Wooyoung being busy with school and classes, the anticipation has San very... antsy.

They always tip-toe around it when they text, but it hasn't reached the point of full on sexting. Mostly just a 'can't wait to see you again' type of thing, but it just doesn't seem right to San, using text messages to express how badly he wants Wooyoung. He can't put it into words, let alone a string of text on a phone screen.

So he refrains from texting Wooyoung at all during the school week, carries on with his existence, and doesn't see Seonghwa for almost the entire week.

After their last encounter, Seonghwa fled (or vanished or whatever, San doesn't know for sure because he fucking blinks and Seonghwa is gone), but it's understandable. San didn't know a lot about sex, and Seonghwa knew even less, so the whole thing must have been overwhelming, even for a demon. Even so, everything Seonghwa mentioned about the 'sexual energy' he exuded while dirty talking Wooyoung has him extremely intrigued, and almost bothered.

It plagues his mind most days, where he finds himself thinking about what on earth Seonghwa meant from dusk to dawn, letting the seconds and minutes tick by while he waits for Wooyoung to be available. He wonders a lot, more so than he's ever done before, finding that his brooding states occur more often than not.

It's weird. Or as Seonghwa calls it, unfamiliar.

It's Thursday when he sees Seonghwa again. He's chosen a spot that he's been to before (though once one flies from rooftop to rooftop, they all start to blend together), one that is somewhat far from civilization, lit up only by the moon and a couple street lamps below. The only people who walk the streets are people returning home from work. Other than that, there's not much else to do around the area. The heartbeats San hears around here are some of the faintest.

Seonghwa finds him anyway, but this time, he brings a guest.

Much like when San first met Seonghwa, he stands with his guard up, this new being in front of him similar to them in that his heart doesn't beat and his lungs don't function. San stares at the two of them in bewilderment, standing cautiously towards the edge of the building. "Seonghwa, who's that?" he asks, his hands positioned behind his back.

"Calm yourself, San," Seonghwa says smoothly. The being beside him is almost a sickly pale, his eyes some form of unnatural orange, but his features are sharp, like his jawline could _actually_ cut somebody. Despite the pallid of his skin, his face is flawless, but...

There's a mark that circles his neck his neck. A long stripe across it, right across his windpipe, that resembles a scar.

"I have found somebody who may be able to answer some of your questions," Seonghwa says, motioning towards the new being beside him.

San raises an eyebrow at the two of them, but the new being's face remains completely stoic, like a goddamn statue. "Who said I have questions? I don't remember asking them."

"When we first met, you told me that the one thing that bothers you is how you came to be and how you cannot seem to remember or figure it out," Seonghwa explains. "This is Yeosang."

Yeosang nods and bows cordially. "It's a pleasure to meet you, San."

San squints at Yeosang, further noticing how his eyes seem to glow even in the darkness. Sure, San has eyes that can change color, but they don't naturally glow, not like Yeosang's. "What are you?" the incubus asks.

"I'm just a demon. No real classification," Yeosang says with an indifferent shrug. "Most of the time I'm just invisible, hiding in the shadows, minding my own business, but Seonghwa here just decided to insert himself into my existence, and, well, here I am, meeting you."

"How... how old are you?" San asks, noticing the drastic difference in the way Seonghwa and Yeosang talk.

"I don't know. Do demons ever keep track of how long they exist for?" Yeosang asks rhetorically, and yeah, he has a point. "But anyways, Seonghwa happened to see me, and he approached me with a whole bunch of questions because apparently he hasn't met another demon except you."

"Yeah, he told me that too," San says. "I didn't even know there were other demons around here." He can already feel himself growing more comfortable around this demon, even though his eyes are a bit unsettling.

"You probably already knew this, but demons don't even know other demons are around sometimes. We don't exactly have a demon sensing radar. Unless you can hear heartbeats, which, apparently you and Seonghwa can."

San is completely unaware that Seonghwa and Yeosang have already begun to step closer to him, not that he minds it. "You can't?"

Yeosang shakes his head with another shrug. "Like I said, I'm just a demon. I literally don't have any other classification. Seonghwa says you're an incubus who feeds on human hearts, so it stands to reason why you hear heartbeats, and Seonghwa is a reaper. He's got a radar for who's alive and who's not, y'know?"

San has to admit, he quite likes Yeosang's mannerisms already. "So... what are you doing here exactly? If you're just a demon, how are you existing? How do you feed?"

"Most demons just feed off of negative energy. Hate, anger, greed, fear... all of that. I'm like Seonghwa in that I'm invisible to humans unless I decide to show myself, which I have never, ever done, but the other night I was just chilling in my full form in a pond and—"

"In a pond?"

"What, a demon can't just swim down to a bottom of a pond and chill there? I don't have to breathe, y'know."

San lets out an amused chuckle. "Anyway," Yeosang continues, "when I came up, Seonghwa was there. Nobody else was around, and he could sense right away that I wasn't human. Not to mention that my eyes are quite telling." He blinks and points at his yellowish eyes. "We both hid ourselves away and started talking, and he told me about you."

"Yeosang told me quite a few interesting things," Seonghwa elaborates.

"He asked me about my existence, where I came from and all that, and I told him straight up."

"Straight up?" San questions.

"I know where I came from."

Now _that_ makes San stand up straighter. Seonghwa and Yeosang are positioned directly in front of him now, and he hadn't even realized. "You... you know how you came to be?" he asks, completely baffled.

"Sort of." Yeosang's lip twitches, his face becoming one of uncertainty. "I don't remember exact details, but at one point, I was a human."

San can feel his entire throat shrivel up. Seonghwa watches him attentively, almost concerned. "You were?" The question comes out small.

"Yeah," Yeosang says. "I didn't figure it out right away, though. It just sort of happened, like, I found out who I was before I became a demon."

That's how Yeosang begins his story. One of his past life of being human, though he can't remember anything from his previously mortal life. However, one fateful day as a demon after who knows how long, Yeosang had come across an old tale, one of a murder victim who had his head and limbs cut off. The culprit had committed suicide upon being discovered, but the victim's lifeless, dismembered body had been abandoned and long forgotten somewhere, as it was the first kill the culprit had done. The authorities didn't find it until two years after the culprit committed suicide, but by then, the skeletonized corpse was virtually unidentifiable.

The dismantled body was found at the bottom of a secluded lake, with a chain and cement tied to each body part. The bones had been nothing but food and decoration for the life below the water for two whole years. Once the body was recovered, or at least what was left of it, the victim's DNA was barely traceable.

 _Barely._ It was still done.

"I was that victim," Yeosang says, pulling his shirt past his shoulder where another dark scar is prominent. He does the same to the other shoulder, where another similar, jagged line wraps around the connecting point of the arm and shoulder. "I have two more at the tops of my legs, and this one, which is the most noticeable." He motions at the one on his neck, drawing his thumb across it in a slitting motion. "I can't remember anything about my life as a human or the murder now matter how hard I try."

"Then how do you know it was you?" San asks.

"I saw it," Yeosang says. "There was an article on the body's finding a newspaper. It wasn't a really big story because it had been two years, but I saw the photo of the victim they put in that newspaper. It was me."

"Was that your name? Yeosang?"

The demon nods. "Yes. As a demon, I went nameless for the longest time, before I saw that newspaper. And when I found out it was me, I took that name back. My name was, and still is, Yeosang."

San can feel the unasked and unanswered questions hovering in the air. The two demons are eyeing him expectantly, knowing that he is curious as well, as much as he may try to deny it. Part of him wishes he hadn't confided in Seonghwa the night they met, but he's here now, with a demon who may have some answers.

"So... how did you become a demon?"

"Ah, that," Yeosang says, clearing his throat. "After I found out it was me, I sort of went on a hunt, researching as much as I could while still concealing myself from humans. Most of the time, it was late at night where I can travel with shadows. I'd sneak into libraries and read texts about demons and whatnot just to find out what the fuck I was. While I didn't find all the answers, I was able to draw some conclusions."

"Which were?" San can feel his fingertips trembling with anticipation.

"Some demons just exist. Like, they've been around forever and didn't really come about from anything. However, demons can also be more humanized, in this case, like you and I, San." Yeosang points between the two of them. "Demons can be born from humans, or, their souls, at least."

San turns to Seonghwa. "Care to elaborate?"

"I was not aware of this information, believe me, San," Seonghwa says. "I reap souls, but that is all I know."

Annoyed but not surprised, San turns his attention back to Yeosang. "That sort of has to do with this, though," the amber-eyed demon continues. "When humans die, their souls are reaped, collected by reapers, _most_ of the time. During my research, I found that humans that die benevolently, as in, from old age or natural causes, don't always have to have their souls reaped to pass on. It just happens naturally. For the people who die in more jarring circumstances, like murder or anything of that sort, their souls are almost always reaped because those are the kinds of souls that reapers like Seonghwa really feed off of."

"I would not use that terminology, but continue."

Rolling his eyes, Yeosang lets out a sigh. "But then you have those whose souls remain unreaped, like mine. I don't know how my soul wasn't reaped, but I'd have to guess that it was because the killing took place in such an obscure location that maybe there wasn't a reaper around."

"I thought you said you could reap souls from anywhere, Seonghwa," San points out.

"I can, but my senses only travel so far, and the same goes for other reapers. There is always the possibility that any reapers around the area were preoccupied with other reapings as well, and like Yeosang said, the crime may have taken place at a sequestered location."

"Well, whatever the case, the main point I learned from my research and the one conclusion I could draw is that humans that die with intense emotions, a grudge, one filled with hatred and anger and everything negative that you can possibly think of, if their souls go unreaped, those souls become physical manifestations of what once was. Demons, like us."

In that moment, it feels like something inside San shatters. Like his body has somehow transformed into paper and the subtle end-of-summer breeze would wisp him right off the roof of this building. He stares at Yeosang's golden eyes for what seems like an eternity while the other demon waits patiently, barely blinking. "So... you're saying that I might have been a human at one point?" The question barely comes out louder than the breeze that could knock him over.

"You said it yourself, San. You told me at one point that while you cannot feel the things humans feel, you know how they are _supposed_ to feel, even if you cannot even put it into words. That there are several missing pieces in your memory, ones that you will most likely never gain back, and—"

"That's another thing," Yeosang says. "You _won't_ remember anything. Even when I found out that the murder victim was me, I didn't have some epiphany where I suddenly remembered everything that happened. I just found out it was me, and nothing else. I remembered _nothing._ So, even if you do find out you were once human, you won't remember ever being so."

"If I was a human, how did I just come to exist as a demon on a fucking mountain? Did Seonghwa tell you that part?"

"Yes, and I don't know exactly. I mean, I came into existence in the middle of a rice field. I think that part might be random."

"But your scars," San points out, "I don't have anything of the sort. If I was killed, wouldn't I have scars like you?"

Yeosang shrugs. "That part, I don't know. After all, none of us know how you died. For all we know, your death could have been an internal thing, not a physical thing."

San bites down on his bottom lip. Somehow, all of this news isn't all that harrowing to him. While it does frustrate him, perhaps there's a reason why these memories remain missing, even if, according to Yeosang, he finds out he was once human. He's not about to go searching for his old human self. That's not who he is anymore.

"San, Seonghwa told me you're an incubus, that you feed off of sexual energy and human hearts? Evil ones, at that. Sound about right?"

San nods in confirmation. "You see, San, just like there was a reason for me being reborn as a demon who feeds off of negativity, there's a reason, if you really _were_ a human once, that you were reborn as an incubus specifically. One with a taste for evil hearts."

Yeosang and Seonghwa glance between themselves again. "San," Seonghwa says, "I do not want this next revelation to spark any sort of enmity in you, especially where you would feel the need to search for answers about your old self—"

"I won't," San growls through clenched teeth. He feels like he already knows the answer. What they're about to tell him.

He's connecting the dots.

"I believe that the reason you kill people who murder and rape is because you had the same done to you as a human," Yeosang concludes. "And to go off of that, even though you are an incubus, you do not prefer to feed off of sex, according to Seonghwa. I believe that is a result... of you having been raped in your past life as a human, but because you _did_ have that happen to you, you were still reborn an incubus."

Everything in San's body begins to sizzle, from his eyes to his toes, and he can't stop his claws from emerging, out of instinct more than anything, but the sight doesn't faze either demon in front of him. He can feel the burning sensation behind his eyeballs, them changing color, proof of the demon that he is. If his heart beat, he's sure it would be thudding in his chest.

While he doesn't want to go on a quest to find out of this is the truth, all of it makes sense. Even if San has to exist with no answers, he feels as if he would rather do that than to find out who he once was. He doesn't entirely know why, but he feels like even if he _did_ figure out what happened to him, if he really used to be a human that was a victim himself, nothing would change. He would still exist as a demon, one who eats hearts of evildoers.

He has no problem with continuing to exist in the way he does.

"You... won't have to worry about me searching for my past self, Seonghwa," San mutters, attempting to retract his claws. "My past self is _dead._ There's no use in searching for him."

"I'm glad you think that way, honestly," Yeosang says. "It must be frustrating, existing without answers, but sometimes, some things are better left unknown and unanswered. For me, I found out not because I sought out answers. It just... happened. And even after I found out, nothing changed. When I found out I was a murder victim, who was killed in such a horrible way, I felt next to nothing. No anger, no hatred. No sense of vengeance. Just... nothing."

The three demons look amongst each other, all aware of exactly what Yeosang means.

The existence of a demon is filled with a whole lot of nothing. All of them know it far too well.

"Even though you said you wouldn't go searching for your past self," Yeosang says, stepping forward and resting a pale, weighty hand on San's shoulder, "I hope that I was able to offer you _some_ answers."

San's claws withdraw back into his hands then, feeling Yeosang's hand on his shoulder but nothing else, reminding him that _this_ is what he is now. A demon, an incubus, with a craving for human hearts, who feeds off of the sheer evil of humanity, the same evil that made him the way he is now.

He just hopes that whatever human killed him is rotting at the Earth's core, that this person's soul, wherever it is, is suffering, and if he could, he'd eat that heart and everything else.

***

It's safe to say that Wooyoung is in for a particularly shitty Friday night.

After a full day of classes, he has to work until closing at nine o'clock at night. When he clocks in, there's a line, and while that's not something he has to deal with, the amount of people just _being_ there is overwhelming. He's sure the dishes will pile up more quickly too, and knowing him, he'll probably bump into somebody and fall and spill the dishes everywhere all over again. Not to mention he's really shitty at interacting with the general public, so if he does cause an accident, he'd probably violently shake as he picks up the dishes, mumble out some half-assed apology, retreat to the back with a bin full of dishes and teary eyes and have a full mental breakdown.

And to top it all off, his head is muddled with the anxiety that San hasn't texted him in a while. What if he doesn't want him anymore? What if he just wants to call this whole thing off and wipe his memory? What if this demon has finally gotten sick of his incoherent rambling that he decides to rip his heart out and eat it despite it being an innocent one? So many possibilities, it's hard for Wooyoung to pick one to overthink and drive him even more insane than he already is.

"Fucking hell," he grumbles to himself as he begins scrubbing his first dish of many. "I wasn't even supposed to work tonight."

The good thing about busy days is that they tend to go by quickly. Even as a busboy, who doesn't have to interact with customers who complain about their drink being too hot or not tasting right or that they used the wrong type of alternative milk, being in the back washing dishes really does kill time. And it's easy, for the most part, as long as he doesn't stumble.

(He also sort of exaggerates the amount of dishes he drops and/or breaks. In actuality, he's broken about two dishes, a mug and a plate, has dropped many more but they didn't break, and he doesn't stumble _all_ the time.)

He's clumsy and awkward, but he's not a completely inept human being who contributes nothing to society, or in this case, a café.

When he finally feels like he can take a breather, he slips his gloves off and sinks down underneath one of the counters, sitting on the floor and taking his phone out. Still no messages from San.

He _really_ wants to text San, but what if that's too much? What if San's avoiding him for a reason? He doesn't want to be annoying or more bothersome than he already is. Maybe he should just back off, forget about San for a little while. Take some time for himself tonight. Maybe watch a movie with Yunho and Mingi.

Whatever. He needs to unwind tonight. He makes it a mission; once he leaves work, he's going straight home, downing an entire glass of wine, and doing whatever the fuck he wants for the rest of the night, with or without San (though preferably, he'd want it to be with San).

The line lasts until about six, and then business significantly decreases with only three customers in the café by eight. One more hour left of Wooyoung's shift and he's ready to drown himself in the sink along with the dishes.

The bell chimes at around eight-thirty, with only _one_ customer left in the whole café, and Wooyoung is about to turn around and throw his sponge at the next customer when he realizes it's San.

"Oh, hi!" Yeoju chirps as soon as he walks through the door. "You're here fairly late."

San shrugs with a smirk, that _demon._ Wooyoung quickly throws his gloves off and hides behind one of the walls, hidden from San's view, even though he's sure the demon can hear his heart. "I had some things to do today," San says, and Wooyoung wonders how true that is.

"Well, can I get you your usual?"

"Sure. And I'm here to pick Wooyoung up as well, whenever he's finished."

"Oh?" Yeoju turns her head towards the back, where Wooyoung is barely peeking out from behind his wall. "Wooyoung-ah! Don't be so shy, you're friend's here to pick you up."

With his face burning, Wooyoung steps out from behind the wall and joins Yeoju at the front counter where San greets him with a friendly smile as opposed to that flirty grin he wears so well. Something about him is different, and Wooyoung can't figure out what it is exactly. "I don't get off for another thirty minutes," Wooyoung mumbles, mentally punching himself in the face when he realizes he didn't even say hi.

"Eh, don't worry about it," Yeoju says. "The boss isn't here, and it's dead. We probably won't have any other dishes to do, and I can clean up. You're stressed, Woo, and I can tell. Go home and rest, okay?"

Wooyoung could kiss Yeoju right now, but he settles for hugging her, which she gingerly reciprocates. "Get out of here, you dunce," she says, laughing and slapping him with a wet rag. "And try not to get into any trouble, okay?"

Wooyoung is already clocking out and throwing his backpack over his shoulder before she can say her last two words. "Thanks, Yeoju! I owe you one!" he shouts, exiting the café with San behind him.

He can already feel the humidity as he steps out, silently hoping that their air conditioner is still going strong at the apartment. It wouldn't matter that much to San, since he probably doesn't sweat, but Wooyoung _hates_ being overly sweaty and sticky during sex. He'd rather melt into a puddle.

Thinking fast, he whips out his phone and texts Yunho.

**[weewoo]**

_i'm coming home. san's with me, so get the fuck out_

**[tweedledumb]**

_roger that daddy wooyoung ;) hope u can still walk tomorrow_

Chuckling, Wooyoung puts his phone away, glancing over to San, who's staring off into the distance, seemingly lost in thought. "Is everything alright, San?" Wooyoung asks cautiously.

"Oh, yeah," San mumbles, his gaze falling to the pavement below them. "Just have a few things on my mind."

"That's unlike you," Wooyoung says, making San chuckle. "What's on your mind?"

San looks up again, his expression completely neutral. He doesn't say anything, which concerns Wooyoung a little, but it must be important if it has San like this. "It's a lot," San sighs. "I'll tell you when we get back to your place."

Feeling slightly dejected, Wooyoung lets out an "oh, okay," and walks the rest of the way home with San in an uneasy silence.

A wave of relief washes over him when he sees that the apartment is completely vacant, meaning Yunho and Mingi kept their promise. He's sure that if they didn't keep their promise, he'd find a way to choke-slam them into the ground despite both of them being much taller than him. He doesn't feel guilty at all for technically sexiling them considering they were the ones who promised to leave _and_ they'd already cockblocked him once. If anything, it's only fair in Wooyoung's eyes.

It's still silent even as they rid themselves of their shoes and jackets, apart from a distant rumbling outside. "Didn't know it was going to storm today," Wooyoung mumbles.

"Mm," San acknowledges softly, already inserting himself into Wooyoung's bedroom. He sits on the bed, his face still tensely pensive as he stares down at the carpet. Concerned, Wooyoung sits next to him, frowning. "So... I found something out yesterday. About me."

"What?" Wooyoung questions, already beginning to feel his heart speed up. He's sure San can hear it.

"Seonghwa met another demon," San says. "His name's Yeosang. He sort of gave me some answers, ones about me and how I came to be a demon."

"What do you mean, 'about you?'" Wooyoung glances down at San's hands, placed in his lap with his fingers intertwined, his thumbs fiddling nervously.

"I don't know if I've already told you this, but when I came into existence, I was on a mountain."

San retells the story of his existence in vivid detail, and while Wooyoung can't comprehend some parts of it, he can hear the way San speaks with such intensity, as if this is something he thinks about a _lot_ , and honestly, Wooyoung can relate to that in the most general sense. He understands that existing in such a way, tormented by constant confusion and lost memories, must be extremely frustrating. He understands why San looks so troubled.

Somehow, for some stupid reason, the part that sticks out the most is that San named himself that because he came to exist on top of a mountain. He finds it oddly poetic, even though he knows this story has a lot more profound points, and he can't help but find his thought process a bit insensitive.

"And what Yeosang told me is that demons can be born from unreaped human souls that bear a strong grudge against their attackers," San explains.

A lightbulb goes off in Wooyoung's head. "So... you're saying that you could have been human at one point?"

San nods, eyes rising to the ceiling. "Yes. It's not exactly proven, but it makes sense to me. I don't think I told you, but all of the senses I lack as a demon, like smell and temperature and pain... I feel like I knew them once. When someone says something is hot, it's as if I know what it's _supposed_ to feel like, even though I can't feel it or put it into words. Like there's the vaguest memory of being human inside me. I know it's confusing, and trust me, I don't even know how to explain it further."

"I... see." Wooyoung is far from being able to understand what San means, but he listens intently anyway. "So are you saying when you were human, you were killed, your soul was left unreaped, and it was born again as a demon?"

"Correct," San says. "Yeosang has this theory about why I was born an incubus specifically and why I eat the hearts of murderers and rapists instead of feeding off of sexual energy."

Something in Wooyoung's stomach churns.

"He thinks that the same might have happened to me when I was human. That I was raped and murdered."

It feels as if Wooyoung's heart stops right there, and he wonders if San can sense it. His fingers, his limbs, everything has gone numb as he feels the most intense dread encompasses his entire body. San doesn't even look at him.

San, the demon who's shown nothing but hospitality and generosity towards him, was raped and murdered as a human? Wooyoung doesn't even want to _begin_ to imagine it.

"San..."

"It's okay, Wooyoung," San affirms, finally turning his head to look at him. "It's not like it matters anymore. If that's what really happened, that I was once a human who ended up raped and murdered, then there's nothing I can do. I'm not about to go and search for my old self, and I'm telling you all of this because I don't want you to do that either. I don't _want_ to know who I used to be."

Wooyoung can already feel his lips beginning to tremble as San's shoulders seem to slump, and the demon tries his best to smile. "Don't cry, Wooyoung," San says, raising a hand to the human's cheeks to swipe his thumb beneath his eye. "I promise you, it's okay."

"That's what you say," Wooyoung whispers, a tear slipping past his eye. "Just... to think you had such awful things happen to you."

"Maybe that's why I'd rather not find out who I used to be. Hell, I bet my entire existence that my name wasn't San."

It's that moment where the point made in San's story stabs him through the chest, and he chokes out a sob, his head falling onto San's shoulder. "You named yourself San because you were born on a mountain," he thinks aloud.

"Yes, I did."

"Then that... that was really your rebirth. An entirely new existence."

"Correct."

Wooyoung can't help the ugly wail that escapes him, one that rings throughout the entire bedroom and echoes off the walls. "You didn't deserve that, San," he cries, his hands unknowingly grabbing onto San's arm as they shake. "Whatever happened to you in your past life, all of the bad things, you deserved _none_ of it. _Nobody_ deserves to be put through things like that."

"Wooyoung," San says, placing a single hand over his, "please, don't cry over me."

"I can't help it!" Wooyoung all but shrieks. "I _care_ about you, San. A-And even if you're just hanging out with me because you pity me, y-you've been nothing but nice to me, and hearing that you've gone through all of this shit just... I don't know anymore." His lips strain to stay straight as more tears pour from his eyes, pulling away from San's shirt and looking at the demon, glassy eyes and all. "Even... even if that isn't who you are anymore, you still... you—"

For once, Wooyoung's brain can't catch up, and he finds himself at a loss for words. Of all times, where Wooyoung needs to come up with words to say, he _can't._

"Y-You're still San," he ends up saying. "Even if that wasn't your name in the first place, you're still... you."

San sighs. "That's not true, Wooyoung. I'm not who I used to be. I was a human, and now I'm a demon."

"There's no way!" Wooyoung argues, standing abruptly. "You're not some evil being who gets off on seeing people suffer. The only people you want to see suffer are those like the one who killed you. That's... that's not what I envision a demon to be like. You're just... someone who wanted a chance at life."

San stands as well as Wooyoung's head hangs again, not out of shame or embarrassment this time. A hand comes up to cup his cheek once more. "Everyone deserves a chance at life, even the evil ones," Wooyoung says lowly, sniffling. "Everyone deserves a chance to be _good._ To live well." He sobs once more as he feels San wipe away a few more tears that fall. "How you treat me now, with nothing but kindness and generosity... I'd imagine that's what you were like when you were human. Someone who loved unconditionally, even if you don't feel emotion anymore."

"Wooyoung." San takes his chin and tilts his head up. "You're too good for this world."

"You probably were too," Wooyoung says, looking down again. "You still are."

"I'm not good," San counters. "I eat human hearts—"

"The evil ones," Wooyoung interjects quickly. "Because you're good. You don't want just anybody to suffer, San. You want to make those who make others suffer, suffer. You're _good_ , San. You might be a demon or whatever, but you're _good._ "

Speechless, San's hand travels to the back of Wooyoung's neck as the human continues. "You deserved a chance at life, San. And... while you may not exactly be _living_ now, this is what you got. As empty as the existence of a demon may be... I'm glad you're here." Wooyoung looks at the demon, whose eyes are a stunning shade of brown. Human. San looks human.

"I'm glad you're here, with me."

_Human, San. You look human._

Wooyoung hopes his message reaches him.

***

_Human, San. You look human._

San gazes at Wooyoung with disbelief, this human's heart beating so softly yet so courageously. The purest heart San has ever had the pleasure of hearing. The human looks at him with nothing but admiration as opposed to the deranged eyes of his victims, ones that he is so used to seeing. No, Wooyoung is looking at him like he's human.

Is that what San wants? To feel human again?

He knows he'll never be that way, but Wooyoung is the only one who's ever made him feel even the most minuscule bit of humanity. That he's not just a killer, a creature born of hatred, a sick, demented demon with no remorse.

Wooyoung's words, along with his heart, resonate in his ears. His eyes flutter closed as he leans into Wooyoung's forehead, pressing them together. "You make me feel human," he murmurs.

"I wish you could feel me," Wooyoung whispers back, his own hand coming up to grip the back of San's neck.

"I do," San says. "I feel you in ways I never thought I could feel."

He spins the both of them around, Wooyoung's back landing on the bed with a soft thump. San opens his eyes to see Wooyoung's red, tear-stained face, eyes still glossy with remnants of those tears. Wooyoung, who is undeniably human, alive with a beating heart, places a hand on his chest, which feels like it might explode.

There's something brewing in San's chest. Some sort of pressure, one that's fogging his mind to the point where all he can think about is Wooyoung, the one person who is able to make him feel like he can breathe again.

Clumsy, unique, beautiful Wooyoung.

San looks back at him with just as much admiration. "Kiss me," Wooyoung requests softly, much like the first time, and who is San to say no?

He connects their lips delicately, as he feels right now, with a flower blooming in his chest and the sound of Wooyoung's vivacious heart in his head making him feel like he could break. A demon, one who rips people's hearts out and eats them, feels as if this human underneath him could break him. Ruin him.

This human, who he would give his entire unbeating heart to, is already in the process of doing so, and he doesn't entirely mind.

He shifts the two of them further onto the bed where he strips them both of their shirts, feeling the way Wooyoung's skin shudders beneath his fingertips, savoring the way Wooyoung's heart rings in his ears as he leaves open-mouthed kisses all along the human's neck. "San," Wooyoung breathes out, his hands not knowing where to land until San takes both of his hands in his and pins them above his head.

"I want to make you feel good," San murmurs against the skin of his neck.

"Mark me up," Wooyoung says, and before San can question what that means, the human goes on to explain. "Take some of my skin into your mouth, bite down gently with your top teeth, and suck."

San nods, dipping down to the bottom of Wooyoung's neck where he follows the instructions given to him, eliciting a moan from the human as he sucks the skin, running his tongue along it, and when he pulls away, there's a red bruise beginning to form where his mouth was. "That's called a hickey," Wooyoung tells him with a lazy smile. "I like them a lot."

"I'll give you as many as you want," San says, his hands roaming Wooyoung's sides.

"Maybe another time. I have work, you know," Wooyoung giggles, like music to San's ears.

San smiles endearingly, working his way back down Wooyoung's neck, peppering kisses across his collarbone and even further down, his tongue lingering around his nipples. San can feel Wooyoung shudder as he circles his tongue around the hardening buds, while his hands find their way to Wooyoung's hips. He hooks his thumbs under the waistband of Wooyoung's jeans, ushering him to take them off.

Both of them strip themselves of their pants, leaving them just in their underwear as San goes back to kissing Wooyoung again, their cocks hard and rutting against each other, separated by those thin pieces of fabric. "San," Wooyoung gasps as the demon sits up and yanks his briefs off, his erection springing up from it.

"So hard for me," San says, shimmying down to meet Wooyoung's cock with his mouth. He tongues at the base first, and Wooyoung bucks his hips from the pent up anticipation. San chuckles as he holds Wooyoung's hips down, licking from the base to the tip, flicking his tongue when he reaches it.

"Beautiful," the demon whispers before sinking his mouth down on Wooyoung's cock, his tongue immediately flattening against it. As a demon with no need to breathe and subsequently no gag reflex, his tongue is able to work around Wooyoung's length even as he takes it all the way to the back of his mouth, leaving Wooyoung heaving, desperate, broken moans flying from his mouth. With San holding his hips down, he's at the mercy of this demon's mouth, nothing else.

"S-San, 's so fucking good," Wooyoung babbles, sounding as if he might start crying again. "Your mouth, h-holy shit. It... it's _hot._ "

San pulls off with a lewd pop, his tongue immediately working the head. "San, I mean it," Wooyoung says suddenly, "your mouth is warm. Like a human's."

The demon's shoulders shrink as he gawks at Wooyoung in disbelief. "You're kidding, right? That's not possible—"

"Well, it _is._ Your mouth feels like a human's, and it's so fucking good," Wooyoung says, following up with a fond smile. "Please, keep going."

Now overcome with newfound determination, San resumes, his mouth working wonders around Wooyoung's cock, an obscene amount of saliva coating it and pooling at the base. Feeling his own haze of arousal, San grinds against the bed for friction, his own cock aching still in the confines of his underwear. "San, wanna... wanna do you too," Wooyoung says, shuffling away from San's face and motioning for him to lie back.

San doesn't expect to feel Wooyoung so intensely, but as soon as the human's lips attach to his skin, his head is thrown back as Wooyoung kisses down his body as well, feeling the wetness from the human's mouth lingering on his skin. "You're so warm, San," Wooyoung hums, reaching the waistband of his underwear and tugging it off. "Just like a human."

San sighs contently as Wooyoung's words seep into him, the reality of them, that he's _warm_ , whatever that may mean. He feels different, that's for sure, as this much pleasure isn't something that he's used to feeling, especially that's courtesy of a human. "I do need to breathe, so I won't be able to do what you just did, but..." Wooyoung trails off, taking San's hot and heavy cock in his hand, giving it a light tug.

"It's okay, Wooyoung," San reassures, reaching down to pet his hair tenderly. "You're already making me feel so, so good."

Wooyoung smiles against the head of his cock. "I'm glad," he says before taking the tip in, his tongue poking into the slit, and San throws his head back again.

He's never felt anything quite like this. Wooyoung's mouth is wet, that's for sure, There's suction, friction, everything along those lines, but there's something else, an unfamiliar sensation that has San's head in the fucking clouds and cock twitching in Wooyoung's mouth already.

_Is this what it's like to feel warm?_

"So... warm," San moans as Wooyoung takes him down further, his spit trickling down the rest of his cock as he uses his hand to cover what his mouth can't. "This must be what it feels like."

Wooyoung pulls off, tonguing at the sides of San's length. San can feel puffs of air coming from Wooyoung's nose as the human catches his breath, sighing happily as his tongue works the entirety of his cock. "You taste so fucking good, San," he says. "It must be a sex demon thing, 'cause your precome tastes like fucking candy."

"What?" San sits up, looking down at the human questioningly. "Is that what it's called?"

"What, precome?" Wooyoung halts his mouth's movements but strokes San slowly. "Yeah, it's this clear stuff that comes out when we're really turned on. It's not come, which is why it's called _pre_ come. But holy shit, like I said, yours tastes so sweet, totally different from a humans. I could suck your dick all day."

Letting out an amused laugh, San lets Wooyoung continue, working his length with his mouth and tongue and hand, all making for a dangerous combination, that and _warmth_ , a new factor and sensation that has San's toes curling with pleasure.

"San," Wooyoung gasps once he pulls off, "want you to fuck me. Please."

The human crawls his way back up to meet San at the lips, snaking his tongue inside his mouth.

_Fuck me, San. Fuck me until I can't walk._

San pulls away, Wooyoung's voice loud and clear in his head, when he's hit with the realization that Wooyoung wants _him_ to fuck him.

"I, um—" San stammers. "I... I've never, um, done the fucking before."

"You _what_?" Wooyoung says in disbelief. "When you were talking to me in my head, you said I 'didn't know what I was in for.' Was that all just talk?"

"Hey, I was trying to help you get off!" San argues, but he's still smiling, amused. "But... yeah, I've always been the one _getting_ fucked. N-Not the other way around. And not to mention I've only ever gotten fucked in my female form."

Wooyoung's soft, supple lips curve into a sympathetic smile. "Okay, San. That's alright. I'll show you what to do."

They switch spots, with Wooyoung on his back and San above him. The human pulls out a bottle of lube, one with a different-colored cap. "The other was warming lube. This one is just regular lube, one that's meant to be used for fucking."

"Okay." San nods, watching as Wooyoung uncaps it and squeezes some onto his fingers.

"It has to stretch first, otherwise, it'll hurt a lot. Lube makes it a lot easier." Wooyoung's fingers travel down to his hole, where San is watching the scene observantly. "I can finger myself, or you can do it for me, whatever you want."

"If you show me how to do it, I'll try it," San replies. Wooyoung circles a single lube-covered finger around his hole, getting it nice and wet before slowly working it inside. From what San can tell, he's moving his finger all around with the intention of stretching it out, just like he said.

"Obviously one finger isn't enough to stretch it, so usually shoot for two or three," Wooyoung informs him.

San watches for a few minutes more, where Wooyoung eventually inserts a second finger. He notices Wooyoung's face scrunch up, and when he asks, he explains that it can be a bit uncomfortable, not to mention he's the one doing the fingering.

"I like it when others do it to me instead."

San grins, reaching over for the lube as Wooyoung pulls his fingers out. "Got the gist of it?" the human asks him.

"Yeah, I think so."

"You got this, sex demon," Wooyoung says with a wink.

San chuckles as he coats his own fingers with the lube, a slippery substance that seems a lot more gelatinous than the other type of lube. Wooyoung spreads his legs further, allowing him better access to his entrance. Placing a hand on one of Wooyoung's knees, he runs the other hand's fingers over the already slick hole. When he goes to fit one in, Wooyoung's hole practically sucks it in like it was made for it.

The same sensation is there. Warmth.

Wooyoung's insides are warm and soft, tight around his one finger, and he can only imagine what that would be like around his dick if the human's mouth was already enough to make his head float among the stars.

He's able to slip in a second finger shortly afterwards, with Wooyoung already having stretched himself out a bit, but he still goes slow, as if Wooyoung would tear. The human has his bottom lip sucked in, his eyes closed and hand resting over one of his nipples. Cautiously, San adds more lube before reaching further inside, all the way until Wooyoung has him buried up to his knuckles. "Mm, San," Wooyoung says, barely above a whisper. "Right there. Keep hitting that spot."

Confused but intrigued, San worms his fingers around inside, feeling around for whatever "spot" Wooyoung was referring to. Retracting his fingers slightly, he thrusts them back inside and notices the slight lurch of Wooyoung's dick in addition to the human letting out a stifled moan.

"There," Wooyoung grunts, already beginning to rock his hips down on San's fingers.

Finally grasping it, San nods, slowly thrusting his fingers in and out of Wooyoung, curling the pads of his fingers around inside him. They consistently brush against that "spot" Wooyoung mentioned, and with each thrust of his fingers, the tip of Wooyoung's cock releases a small amount of precome.

"Fuck, San, get in me," Wooyoung moans, his eyelids droopy as he watches San pulls his fingers out. "But... go slow. I haven't done this in a while."

"I'll go as slow as you need me to," San says, grabbing the bottle of lube again.

He squeezes a good amount onto his hand and spreads it on his dick until it's completely coated, rubbing some of the residual lube on Wooyoung's hole with his fingers. As San lines himself up, he glances up to see Wooyoung's lips pressed into a thin line, his arms crossed over his abdomen. "Wooyoung," San says, grabbing both of his wrists tenderly, much like before, and removing his arms from his torso. "Don't hide from me. Every part of you is beautiful."

There's an offbeat in Wooyoung's heart as his lips show themselves again. "Th-Thank you, San," he says under his breath.

With a deep, unnecessary inhale, San presses forward, allowing the tip of his cock to slip inside, watching Wooyoung's face as he does. The human's lips have parted, his eyes occasionally twitching the further San goes. His top teeth dig into his bottom lip as his hands grip the sheets beneath him, his heart thundering in his chest. Wooyoung is clenching around him, decadently warm and deliciously tight, and by the time he bottoms out, Wooyoung's breathing has gone ragged, his heart beating loud, and he lets out a deep groan.

"Are you all in?" he asks.

San nods, propping himself up and leaning forward, placing his hands on the bed on either side of Wooyoung's chest. "H-How does it feel?" the human asks, his voice coming out small.

"It's amazing," San answers, somehow feeling breathless. "You feel so good, Wooyoung." He lowers himself down, capturing Wooyoung's lips in his again, familiarizing himself with the imprint of his lips, the way it collides with his own, its crevices and valleys, _Wooyoung's lips._ Ones that San could never get tired of kissing. "Let me know when it's okay to move."

"Y-You can move, just not too hard, okay?" Wooyoung kisses him again, much more delicately his time, his fingers barely brushing against San's cheeks.

Nodding, San pulls out ever so slightly and pushes back in, nudging Wooyoung forward just a little bit, eliciting a small noise from the human's throat. Whether it's pleasure or discomfort, San can't tell, but he continues just like that, shallow thrusts that he still treasures, because Wooyoung is just so _tight_ around him, practically pulling him in, his insides pulsing around San's cock and seemingly begging for more.

As San's movements gradually get faster, Wooyoung's sounds grow in volume as the discomfort transforms into pleasure, his eyes caught between squeezing shut and staying open to gaze at San's as the demon rocks into him, his hips moving at a solid pace. "S-San," Wooyoung manages, "feels really good."

"You do too," San says, pressing his forehead against Wooyoung's. "So, so good. So _tight_."

Wooyoung whimpers, throwing his arms around San's neck and kissing him _hard_ , all tongue and teeth but San is so lost in the moment that he couldn't care less. Wooyoung is so _warm_ around him, this new, addictive sensation only driving San forward, his hips snapping into Wooyoung as he bites down on the human's bottom lip. "San, right there!" Wooyoung cries out as San buries his face in the crook of his neck, kissing the skin there and maintaining his thrusts _right there._

"Oh, _god_ , San." Wooyoung releases a long, heavy moan, wrapping both of his legs around San's waist and locking his ankles together, pushing San even further into him. "Oh, _fuck_ , San, feels so f-fucking good."

San practically growls as he brings his forehead back up to Wooyoung's, his _breaths_ meeting Wooyoung's, mingling with each other. He finds himself panting, with breaths he didn't even know he could take or ever _needed_ to take. "F-Fuck, Wooyoung, you're so _beautiful_."

Wooyoung whines at the word, his legs tightening around his waist. "I want to see you come again," San pants against his lips, pushing himself back up and releasing Wooyoung's legs from him, the limbs falling back down by his side. "Want you to come for me."

"S-San!" Wooyoung gasps as San grips his leaking cock, a puddle of precome having formed by his navel from earlier. "I-If you keep doing that, I'm gonna come."

"Do it, then," San says, squeezing the tip of Wooyoung's cock that's still leaking the transparent fluid. "Come."

Unknowingly, San gazes straight into Wooyoung's eyes, his mind muddled by lust, and Wooyoung shatters.

San can see the fissures in the pillowcases from Wooyoung gripping onto them so hard, the human's eyes screwed shut but jaw dropped wide open as he comes with San barely even touching him. The moans Wooyoung lets out are _delicious_ , and San absorbs it all, the moans, the air leaving his lungs, his heart like crashing waves. His skin is on fire, caked with sweat, so _warm_ , and San's own movements become more erratic, feeling some sort of pressure building in his lower abdomen.

Even as Wooyoung's cock spends the rest of what it has, his moans don't let up one bit. "W-Want you to come inside me, San," he says, his voice weak but still desperate, cracking with want. "F-Fill me up. Wanna feel your cock throbbing in me."

"S-Shit, Wooyoung," San groans, lowering himself back down and smashing his lips to Wooyoung's. The pressure is building, like a weight in his stomach, and he figures this must be what it feels like. An orgasm, the peek of pleasure, _inside Wooyoung_ , of all things.

"Come in me, come in me, come in me," Wooyoung chants mindlessly, his breathing rapid against San's face.

When San finally comes, his entire body nearly shuts off. Everything is black, his eyes closed from the immense pleasure that branches out from his cock to the rest of his body as he pulses into Wooyoung, feeling his come land all around him and coating Wooyoung's walls. "Fuck fuck _fuck_ , San!" the human cries helplessly, his arms wrapped around San's head, pulling him close as the demon lets out a guttural moan into his neck.

"Oh, _Wooyoung._ " The name slips out of him like a sinful curse, a hex that has San's mind spinning.

 _This_ is the power Wooyoung has over him. To make him feel like a mere mortal.

And somehow, the all-powerful being that he is, he is so, so glad that he can.

When he retracts his head from Wooyoung's neck, he can feel the human's chest moving under his, but his is moving too, with breaths and air that he's never had to take. "S-So full," Wooyoung all but squeaks, swallowing hard.

Letting out a deep exhale, San sits back up reluctantly and removes himself from Wooyoung, suddenly feeling so _cold_ as he does. He shudders, watching in awe as his come leaks out from the stretched rim. "Oh, f-fuck," Wooyoung stutters, attempting to close his legs, only to be held back by San grabbing his knees and spreading them again. "S-San, what are you— _ah_!"

San descends downward to Wooyoung's hole, running his tongue against the puckered rim and lapping up the come that seeps out, his _own_ come. It doesn't taste like anything, but hearing Wooyoung moan incoherently is enough.

 _Wooyoung_ is enough.

"S-San, t-too much," Wooyoung whimpers, his legs shaking violently before San finally decides to have mercy on him, resurfacing and wiping his mouth. "H-Holy fuck, San. I think that was the hardest I've ever come."

"That was the first time I've ever come," San says.

"Was it good?"

San smirks, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to Wooyoung's lips. "Good is an understatement."

Blinking lazily, San flops over to Wooyoung's side, his needs sated and body full. Wooyoung glances over to him, and his face is suddenly filled with confusion. "San, you're breathing," he observes, sounding puzzled.

"I know," San says.

He looks at Wooyoung, those beautiful brown eyes, and reaches over to grab him by the back of the head and kiss him again. Wooyoung lets out a muffled sound of surprise, but melts into the kiss nonetheless, rolling himself over slightly so he can press his body to San's. When San pulls away, the tips of their noses brush, his hand gently cradling Wooyoung's jaw.

"You make me feel human," San says, "and I can't thank you enough for it."

There's another leap in Wooyoung's heart, one of pure joy, as the human reconnects their lips for the who-knows-how-many'th time, smiling as he does. San can feel another tear form at the corner of his eye, which he swiftly wipes away.

"You make me feel human, too," Wooyoung whispers.

Even with an unbeating heart, San can feel some sort of pressure in his chest, _something_ , and even though he lacks a lot of human emotions, he could never be lacking when it comes to Wooyoung.

Because at the end of the day, Wooyoung makes him feel human, emotions and all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i almost teared up writing this??? what is wrong with me
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/galaxysangs)


	7. septem

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> holland makes an appearance bc i love him :')
> 
> aaaand here we have recreational drug use, face-fucking, window/wall-fucking, and veeryyy slight exhibitionism! enjoy :)
> 
> (also some graphic description of a dead body towards the end)

Most of the time, when Wooyoung wakes up after a hookup, the bed is empty and cold.

But this had been no hookup. The bed is full, two bodies intertwined, and while one doesn't radiate heat, the bed has never felt so warm. When Wooyoung wakes up, he's wrapped up in a scent of cinnamon and vanilla, and there's a demon with the eyes of a human staring at him.

"Were you watching me sleep?" Wooyoung asks, a sleepy smirk appearing on his face.

"I don't need to sleep," San says, "so yes."

"You could've left."

"Why would I do that?" San asks, frowning slightly.

Wooyoung sits up, his shoulders aching as he does, his lower half feeling like jelly. His ass hurts, but in the best way possible. "Humans tend to do that after a hookup or one-night stand. N-Not that I'm saying this was either of those things, 'cause, um, well..."

San smiles at him, his eyes crinkling at the sides. "I hope you don't think that, Wooyoung. That what happened last night isn't just a one-time thing."

Wooyoung shakes his head. "N-No, not at all! Just, um, that's... what I'm used to." He does his best to smile.

The demon sighs, a hand tucking a stray piece of hair behind Wooyoung's ear and cradling his jaw much like last night. "Wooyoung, if it's what you want, you can have me as many times as you'd like."

The sentence makes Wooyoung's heart thump, not to mention San's tone, such shameless flirtatiousness so early in the morning. Wooyoung isn't a fan of morning sex, but if San keeps this up, he might not be able to resist. Well, San is a sex demon, so maybe it's to be expected.

San shuffles closer to Wooyoung until they're chest to chest, his hand lowering to the human's neck. He glances down at it, blinking curiously, and smiles. "Your pulse," he says without context.

"What about it?" Wooyoung questions, feeling a blush creep up on his cheeks.

"It's yours," San says, pecking Wooyoung's nose, the gentle brush of his lips enough to make the human shudder. "Undeniably yours."

Wooyoung can't even begin to fathom what that could mean, but he figures that asking about it won't really answer his question. The demon is beaming at him, however, so it must mean something good.

It's San, after all. There's no way it _isn't_ good.

***

Their hangouts become a regular thing.

Well, as regular as it can be considering Wooyoung is still a full-time student with a part-time job. When San isn't with Wooyoung, he's roaming the streets as he's done many times before, listening to the heartbeats of the general public, enjoying the weather, and doing his best to blend in. Time still passes by quickly for him, where he'll spend the night upon rooftops and wait for the sunrise, but it all seems to happen within the blink of an eye. One moment, he's flying to a roof, and the next, the sun is peeking out from behind city buildings and glaring directly at him.

When he isn't with Wooyoung, the solitary existence of a demon resurfaces, and he doesn't entirely know how to feel about it now.

Before, wandering the days away was the norm, where he let the minutes go by without a care, but during his downtime, he finds himself itching to see Wooyoung, be in his presence, him and that cheeky grin and freckle beneath his left eye.

San wants to be around Wooyoung a lot more than he thought he would.

He supposes there isn't anything wrong with it. Sure, there's always the chance of him having to wipe Wooyoung's memory if circumstances get dire, but things seem to be okay. San hasn't heard an evil heart in a while, he's running on enough energy to last a whole fucking month, and there's Wooyoung. He hasn't seen Seonghwa in a while, though, but it stands to reason why. San hasn't killed in a little while, meaning Seonghwa has no reason to be around him. There are other souls to reap.

He has to admit, though, he does sort of miss Seonghwa's unintentionally hilarious banter and lack of sexual knowledge. Not to mention San definitely wouldn't mind an encounter with him like that one time that Seonghwa probably desperately wants to forget. But who knows?

San comes to one conclusion over the next several days. Basically, when he's not with Wooyoung, he's _bored._ Irreparably bored.

What's more is that when they _do_ hang out, it doesn't necessarily end in sex. Sometimes Wooyoung is too tired after a long day to have sex, and that's fine. San doesn't feel tired as a demon, but he can hear Wooyoung's heart beating more weakly whenever the human is under stress or is running low on energy. And _then_ , on top of that, Wooyoung sometimes has schoolwork to do late at night after a closing shift at the café, so San has to leave him alone during those times as well.

It's fine. It's totally fine. But San has never once found his existence to be _this_ boring.

There is one Friday night, however, where Wooyoung texts San and tells him to dress up.

**[the human]**

_put on your best clothes, we're going to a party_

**[the demon]**

_excuse me?_

**[the human]**

_i mean uh you can come if you want!!! it's just a party that yunho was invited to, he said you can come along if you want_

_it is an open invite after all_

**[the demon]**

_a party?_

**[the human]**

_yeah lol i mean i know you probably haven't been to a college party before_

_it's kinda like clubbing but in a house instead_

_and like, sort of less creepy people and they're all the same age_

**[the demon]**

_i don't know if it'll be a good idea for me to go. i still don't really fit into the whole scene._

_not to mention i have no reason to be there. well, except you, of course._

**[the human]**

_aww how flattering_

_well it's up to you. me mingi and yunho are all going. if you wanna come, just stop by around nine and we can all leave together_

San is on a roof when he reads the message, a good distance away from his condo. Currently eight, it won't take him long at all to get ready, but then he thinks, what is he even supposed to wear to a college party? He's used to wearing black dress shirts and matching black tight fit slacks, but from what he's seen, college students don't dress like that. He'd definitely stand out.

Wooyoung _did_ tell him to put on his best clothes, though. He can probably finesse something fairly quickly if he needs to pick an outfit up from the store. He _does_ have enough money and then some. Thinking back, he envisions the amount of college students he'd seen on the university campus and the clothes they wore, realizing that maybe he really _was_ out of place walking around in all black, dressed up formally like he was going to some fancy restaurant. Most of what he'd seen were hoodies, jeans, and Converse sneakers. San owns no hoodies, some pairs of jeans, and several pairs of dress shoes.

That's right. Just be casual. He has a plain black t-shirt and a pair of dark blue (blue, not black) jeans. Combined with some dress shoes, he supposes that's about as casual as he can get on such short notice. He doesn't need to go to the store. Maybe some other time.

It's eighty-thirty by the time San is finished changing. He stares at himself in the mirror, tilting his head, observing his face from all angles. He's never actually taken the time to _look_ at himself like this since he has no reason to, but now, for some reason, he finds himself wanting to look _good_ even though he knows he probably always does since he's a _sex demon_ for goodness' sake.

There's a freckle on his left eyelid. A few more less noticeable ones dotting his cheeks. But then he notices a trail of them along the right side of his neck, darkened speckles of his natural skin tone. He wonders if those are somehow related to his death, or if they are features he had when he was human. Whatever the case, he's surprised he hasn't noticed them thus far.

He parts his hair and slicks it back, sighing once he's satisfied with his finished look, and begins the trek to Wooyoung's apartment.

\---

San must move very quickly, because once he reaches Wooyoung's door, it's eight-forty even though he's pretty sure the walk is at least twenty minutes (normally). But of course, he's fine, since he doesn't need to breathe.

When Wooyoung opens the door, he's laughing, turned around and presumably amused at whatever Yunho and Mingi are doing, before actually facing San. The human's face instantly falls to San's feet as he takes him in from head to toe, and San can hear his heart leap. "Oh, S-San! You didn't tell me you were coming." Wooyoung looks San in the eyes, obviously flustered.

"Thought I'd surprise you," San says with a smirk and a shrug. "May I come in?"

"Y-Yeah." Wooyoung steps aside, allowing San inside where Yunho and Mingi are sat at their kitchen island, cans of beer in their hands. "We're pregaming, just so you know."

"Pregaming?" San looks at him questioningly. He notices the way Yunho and Mingi raise their eyebrows at him. "What? I don't party."

Yunho snorts as he swallows a sip of his beer. "Pregaming is when you drink a little bit before going out. Just to unwind a bit, helps you get into the party mood, you know? You're welcome to join us if you want."

"Oh, ah, no thanks," San says, smiling graciously. "I'm just here because Wooyoung invited me. I've never been to a party before."

"Wait, really?" Mingi says, lowering his can. "Hold on, San, what do you even _do_? Like, are you in school? Do you work? How old are you?"

"Sheesh, Mingi, slow down," Wooyoung warns, glancing at San nervously.

San sighs, honing in on Yunho and Mingi's eyes. "Don't ask those questions again. They're irrelevant."

"San, what—"

"Okay," the two roommates answer immediately.

Wooyoung leans into San's ear as the demon maintains eye contact with his roommates. "San, did you just do what I think you just did?"

"Yup," San answers. "It's fine, it's a very temporary spell. They'll still be able to party with their brains intact."

San sighs, looking away. "So when are you guys going to be done 'pregaming?'" he asks.

"Uh... we can leave soon, actually, now that you're here," Wooyoung says, still sounding awed. "Right, guys?"

His roommates instantly snap out of it now that San's looking away and smile, answering with a simultaneous "yes!" They're dressed extremely casually, hell, Yunho's wearing sweatpants and Mingi's in a university hoodie, but Wooyoung is definitely the most flashy of the trio. From what San can tell, he's even wearing a bit of eyeshadow and eyeliner that really accentuate his eyes, dressed in a gray low-cut V-neck and skinny jeans, complete with a solid black _choker_ , and seeing that makes San wish that it were his hands instead.

In summary, he looks _hot_.

The night is young, the streets relatively safe now that the Heart-Ripping Killer is being kept at bay (the thought makes San laugh), and San can already tell from the way Yunho and Mingi dance along the pavement that this night is going to be interesting. He's only ever seen college parties in movies over the years, all of which are dramatized for the sake of entertainment, so he's certain that this party isn't going to be anything like the movies. Not that he would have much fun at one that's actually like one from the movies. Alcohol and other substances don't do anything to him, after all.

Yunho and Mingi strut down the street, clearly already some sort of inebriated, while San and Wooyoung walk side-by-side with their hands in their pockets. "You're lucky you don't feel temperature," Wooyoung says lowly, having put on a denim jacket before they left while San remained short-sleeved. The night breeze of the ending summer is a bit chilly, apparently. "Parties get really hot and sweaty."

San remembers Wooyoung's sweaty body beneath him. He'd _felt_ that, the heat radiating off of him, the stickiness of the sweat, _everything_. From what Wooyoung is saying, this sort of sweaty isn't pleasant, but San hopes that maybe it won't be the same at a party. He's pretty sure it will be that way.

They're nearing their destination when San remembers that one girl, the one who'd said Wooyoung only stood off to the side at parties and didn't interact with anyone. It makes him wonder if Wooyoung goes to a lot of these, and if he does, just _why_ he does if he only ends up standing around. He glances over at the human when he's not looking, his facial expression completely neutral as they approach the house.

It's a college town, San realizes, a road where all of the houses belong to students (or are being rented by students). The lawn is surprisingly neat, and the house, while not extravagant, is definitely sizable, big enough to fit maybe a hundred people. A few small inground lamps light the way, but San notices the purple and blue lights in the windows first. The music's volume reminds him of the clubs, how loud it is, and San thinks that maybe Wooyoung was right. Maybe parties really _are_ like clubs, just in a house instead.

"Welcome to your first college party, San," Wooyoung says, grinning.

Yunho and Mingi lead the way with Yunho going in first (right, that girl had said Yunho is pretty popular), the tallest's arms spread wide open as he invites himself in. A few people let out cheers, to San's surprise, as the crowd practically sucks him in, engulfing him with fist bumps and loose hugs. Mingi gets a few too, and Wooyoung grabs onto San's hand, clumsily pulling him to the left, apparently using Yunho and Mingi's entrance as a way of divergence.

They enter one of the living rooms, where there are a few clusters of students chatting amongst themselves with red plastic cups in their hands, minding their own business even when the pair stumbles into the room. Wooyoung lets out a sharp sigh and releases San's hand, the cheering of the students at the entrance slowly decreasing in volume, allowing the music to muddle their ears instead. "So, uh, welcome to a college party," Wooyoung says.

"What is there to do at a college party?" San asks, glancing around as he takes in his surroundings. There's a group of people sat at the sofa, legs and arms all brushing up against each other, and there's some contraption placed at the center of a circular table. It almost resembles a miniature fountain with tubes coming out of it. Two of the people are fiddling with it, while some of the others hold the tubes impatiently.

"Um, smoke, drink, talk, dance. Though I don't think you'll really have any fun doing those things, ha." Wooyoung glances past San, who's still eyeing the device on the table curiously. "Oh, that? That's a hookah."

"A what?"

"A hookah. You smoke out of it. I haven't personally smoked from one, though."

"Have you smoked before?"

"Cigarettes? No. Weed? A little." Wooyoung smiles cheekily, grabbing San's hand again and tugging on it. "I'm sure weed doesn't do anything to you, either."

"Nope. Drugs don't do anything to me," San says as Wooyoung pulls him into the kitchen, where there are even more people gathered.

There's a large metal tub serving as a centerpiece smack dab in the middle of the kitchen island, filled to the brim with ice with several cans and bottles of alcohol sticking out of it, along with a bowl of what San knows is some sort of strong alcoholic concoction (he's learned that from the movies). It almost seems to glow bright red even under the blue lights. Wooyoung takes one of the red plastic cups stacked next to the metal bin and fills it with the punch while San watches him hesitantly.

"That stuff is strong, isn't it?" the demon questions as Wooyoung takes a sip.

"Yeah," Wooyoung says, followed by a giggle. San cocks an eyebrow at him. "What? It'll be fine. I only filled my cup halfway."

"Whatever you say." San lets out a sigh, watching as Wooyoung slowly sips the drink. "So... what do _you_ usually do at a party?"

The two wander off to the adjacent dining room that has a lesser amount of people in it and stand in one of the corners. "Me? Oh, I usually just go because Yunho and Mingi invite me. And the free alcohol. Other than that, I usually just stand around and watch people. Sometimes, people-watching can be entertaining. One time, I saw this girl with her boyfriend, and they were all over each other, like, _all_ over each other on the dance floor, and then they just sorta separated at one point, and like, an hour later I saw her on her knees with a different guy. On the same dance floor. Dick out and everything."

"Sheesh. And nobody cared?"

Wooyoung shakes his head and shrugs. "Most people are too drunk or high to notice or care. I've seen a _lot_ of stuff happening in the middle of the dance floor. It never ceases to surprise me. Y'know, I wonder how things ended for that girl and her boyfriend."

San's had his fair amount of people-watching moments, considering that's really all he _can_ do, though he never truly pays attention. Human bodies and heartbeats all blend together, becoming nothing but a blur of passing sounds and unintelligible masses, so much so that San doesn't notice just exactly what humans do. He really only ever pays attention to the evil hearts and the people they belong to. Even so, Wooyoung's story amuses him.

"What else have you seen?"

Wooyoung purses his lips in thought. "Um... a lot of stuff along those lines. People making out, doing sexual things in the middle of the dance floor, doing drugs they shouldn't be doing, that kind of thing. Oh! One time a girl beat this guy at a shotgun contest and she got to step on his dick in front of everyone. And I mean, _step on his dick._ Out in the open." Wooyoung's shoulders shudder. "That poor penis."

San normally doesn't feel pain, but even that makes him feel a bit uncomfortable down there. "Oh, and before you ask, shotgunning is when you poke a hole in a beer can and chug it from the side," Wooyoung elaborates.

"What? That's a thing?"

"Yeah. Like, you hold it on its side, poke a hole in it, open the tab and then turn the can and chug it. It's real messy unless you're some kind of shotgunning god." Wooyoung giggles, his top lip grazing the rim of his cup. He gazes out at the few small groups of people scattered about the dining room, though there isn't anything interesting happening. "One time, Yunho shotgunned _three_ beers in a row and felt next to nothing. That guy, I swear."

San chuckles. "I could drink an infinite amount and feel nothing."

"I know," Wooyoung says, grinning around the cup, and for some reason, San finds himself wishing Wooyoung would look at him. "San, if you participated in any of the drinking games here, you'd win all of them. Demon perks."

"Demon perks," San confirms, smiling.

"I think you should do it."

"What, play a drinking game?"

"Yeah! I think it would be fun to watch. They're probably playing beer pong somewhere in this house, most likely in the basement. If not, I'm sure someone will start something. Funneling is fun too." With a mischievous grin, Wooyoung takes hold of San's hand again, pulling him in another direction.

"Have you been to this house before?" San asks, following an already tipsy Wooyoung.

"Nope, but I've been to plenty that have basically the same layouts as this one. Architects are so unoriginal these days."

Worming their way through an expanding crowd, Wooyoung finds the door to the basement fairly quickly. As soon as the door opens, the lights are immediately noticeably brighter. The basement is finished, a cream carpet and off-white walls, and San can't help but think that if _this_ is where drinking games are being played, then whoever cleans the carpet is really in for it.

However, it soon becomes evident that the basement really _is_ where the drinking games take place; as soon as San gets a wider view of the lower floor, he can see a distinct difference in color. Where the carpet at the bottom of the floor is mostly cream, stains from alcohol, dirt, and probably vomit appear in large patches across the carpet everywhere else, rendering it a murky tannish color.

And sure enough, to the right of the stairs is a table where two teams are across from each other locked in a beer pong competition.

"You know how beer pong works, right?" Wooyoung leans in and asks.

San nods. "Seen it in movies."

"Do demons have telekinesis?"

"I don't. Maybe some do, though." San smirks, leaning back against a wall as he watches observantly, the teams paying neither of them any mind. The music playing is drastically different from that of upstairs; here, it's more psychedelic beats and discordant noises, while upstairs is playing more club-like music. The thumping from the bass upstairs can still be heard and felt, but at least the music playing in the basement is at a softer volume.

"I feel like you'd still manage to beat everyone at beer pong, though."

"I might not have telekinesis, but I _do_ have the ability to make people fuck up," San says with a wink.

Wooyoung pulls on San's hand again, guiding him to the opposite side of the basement where there's a group of five people sitting in a small circle, surrounded by scattered plastic cups and bottles of alcohol. "Oh? Is that Wooyoungie I see?" one of them asks chirpily, a short, eccentric man with several studded ear piercings.

"Oh, Hongjoong-hyung! I haven't seen you in a while! How have you been?" Wooyoung greets the man with a cheerful embrace, his mouth widening into a giddy smile and eyes closing.

"I've been amazing, darling." Hongjoong's smiling as he pulls away, and San immediately notices the swelling in his eyes. "Oh, who's your friend?"

"This is San," Wooyoung says, gesturing to the demon, who simply offers a wave.

"Ah, see, Wooyoungie, what did I tell you? I knew you'd bag a hot one!"

"Hyung!"

San lets out an endearingly amused chuckle. "I'm sorry if that was a bit forward. If you couldn't tell, I'm just a weeeee bit under the influence at the moment," Hongjoong slurs, though his big-toothed smile never vanishes from his face. "Sit, sit! We're just catching up on the latest gossip." Hongjoong grabs onto Wooyoung wrist and practically yanks him down into the circle, while San follows the humans awkwardly, sitting himself in a slot next to Wooyoung.

"I didn't expect to see you here, hyung," Wooyoung says. "Thought you weren't a big fan of parties like this."

Hongjoong shrugs, passing the blunt (at least, that's what San thinks they're called) in his hand to Wooyoung, who sticks it in his mouth ever so casually. "I'm not, but I figured with all the killing going on, I might as well try to enjoy the precious time I have left by going to a social gathering surrounded by the people I love." Hongjoong kneels, spreading his arms out dramatically and sighing. "I love you all."

"We love you too, Joongie. Now sit your high ass back down," one of the girls says. "Wooyoung-ah, it's been a while. We were starting to worried you might've been killed too."

"Yah, Minnie! Don't say things like that!" another girl chides, slapping Minnie's knee. "It's okay, Woo. We know that life can be stressful, and if you don't reach out as often, that's okay." The rest of the circle nods in agreement.

"Thanks, guys," Wooyoung says sheepishly, sucking on the blunt as San watches. He sighs, the smoke escaping his mouth, and San listens to the way his lungs push it out. It sounds calm.

"So, are you going to introduce us all to your friend?" a man with bleach blond hair and a long face asks. "Ooh, introduction circle! I'm Taeseob, and you said your name is San, right?"

The demon blinks before he realizes he's being talked to. "Oh, yeah."

"Me! I'm Yoonmi," the girl from before says. Her hair is braided into pigtails, her face completely bare of any makeup, and she's probably one of the most effortlessly attractive women San has ever seen.

In stark contrast is Minnie, whose torn fishnet stockings and a band t-shirt (a band that San has never heard of before) with holes in it spells out what San believes is called 'punk.' The right side of her head is shaved, as the rest of her striking violet hair is styled in curls over her head. From her introduction, San learns that she's actually studying abroad from the U.S., which probably explains her style, but she's Korean herself and speaks fluently. Being a demon, San isn't the least bit intimidated by her, but her style is definitely something he's not used to seeing. He quite likes it, actually.

"Minnie like the fuckin' mouse," Minnie says in English, taking a large swig from her bottle of beer. "Technically, it's Min-hee, but I'd rather be named after a Disney character. Oh, and if you're curious, my English name is Melanie." She says that part in Korean, though.

Next to Minnie is Jinho, a pretty average-looking guy with matted, jet-black hair who already seems to be partially comatose. He barely introduces himself, just says his name and snatches the blunt from Wooyoung's hand, and the human looks completely unfazed.

"And then there's me, Kim Hongjoong." Hongjoong stands and bows comically. "The true reason why Wooyoung is who he is today."

"What?" San questions.

"He helped me with my bi awakening," Wooyoung informs him. "I went through a tough time, and Hongjoong made it bearable."

"What can I say? A confident gay is a happy gay." Hongjoong winks, sitting back down and crossing his legs. "We're all gay here."

"Or some sort of gay," Minnie pipes in. "So, are you Wooyoung's boyfriend?"

"N-No, he's just a friend of mine—"

"Wait, San knows, right? Gosh, we can be so loud-mouthed when we're high." Hongjoong groans, though it's just as exaggerated and dramatic as the rest of his actions.

Wooyoung lets out a small chuckle. "Yeah, he knows."

"And I'm completely fine with it," San adds with a confident smile. Wooyoung glances over, his eyes hazy but grateful.

"Ah, good, good. You wouldn't want a bunch of gays drop-kicking your ass," Hongjoong says barely threateningly.

Both San and Wooyoung laugh at that, knowing it's utterly impossible.

As the social circle resumes their conversation with Wooyoung included, it makes San smile, seeing how comfortable Wooyoung is with this group. He laughs like he does when he's with Yunho and Mingi, maybe even more. He takes a couple hits from the blunt, which ultimately ends up snuffed out on Minnie's portable ashtray ("God bless this woman," Hongjoong says at one point, crawling over and playfully tackling Minnie to the ground, who easily rolls him over and puts him in a chokehold until he taps out).

Wooyoung ends up with his head in San's lap, though he remains facing his friends. "Everything's been so messed up lately," Hongjoong sighs, his tone suddenly dipping into solemnness. "How are you holding up, Wooyoungie? Are you classes okay? Yunho and Mingi aren't giving you a hard time, are they?"

"I'm fine," Wooyoung assures. "Yeah, things have been really fucked up around here, but I'm okay." His hand comes up to rest on San's knee, fingers spreading across it gently. San glances down and smiles, even though the human doesn't look up.

"You know you can reach out to us at any point, right?" Yoonmi asks. "We don't want anybody giving you a hard time."

"I know." Wooyoung lets out a deep, tired sigh. His heart thumps softly.

If only they knew the trouble he's been put through so far. But San has a feeling they know about the trouble that _he_ isn't aware of.

The reasons why Wooyoung shrinks.

San finds himself lacing his fingers in Wooyoung's hair, rubbing small, comforting circles into his head. Hongjoong chuckles. "Wooyoungie always gets sleepy when he's high," he says directed at San. "How did you meet him?"

San glances down to see that Wooyoung's eyes are closed. "I was a regular at the café he works at," he says, all of their eyes locked on him now. "He was... cute. Still is."

"You _sure_ you aren't his boyfriend?" Minnie asks with a smirk and raised eyebrow.

San shakes his head and laughs. "No. Things are a bit complicated at the moment."

_Because I'm a demon, and what kind of demon courts a human?_

"Do you want to be?" Minnie probes, her smirk disappearing.

And in all honesty, San has never had to entertain this question. He knows the answer is no, because Wooyoung is _human._ A human who's already involved in the demon world, and then San, the titled 'Heart-Ripping Killer,' who's responsible for the deaths that have the entire city's (and country's, probably) population on edge. Romance isn't an _option._

But San shrugs nonetheless. He knows that he can easily entrance these people, but they're genuine. Their hearts beat fondly just like Wooyoung's does. These are Wooyoung's people, and San would be damned if he didn't try to be honest with them.

Minnie sighs. "I mean, do what you do, but don't hurt him."

"I won't—"

"Minnie," Hongjoong warns, his posture suddenly straightening. He looks over to San sympathetically. "Look, San, I don't know if you know about Wooyoung's past, but... he's been hurt before. And you seem like you really like him. But if a relationship isn't in the works, or if you don't feel romantically towards him, please be honest with him and don't lead him on. He doesn't deserve that again."

_Again?_

San nods, well aware that he could get Hongjoong to tell him, but he glances back down at the now sleeping human resting in his lap, with his heart like the calmest tide, and knows that the only person he should hear the story from is Wooyoung himself. "San, can you make sure Wooyoung gets home safely? I'm sure he's about ready to leave," Hongjoong says, grinning at the sleeping boy.

"Of course," San says as Wooyoung stirs slightly. He keeps his arms beneath Wooyoung's body as he hoists him up effortlessly. Wooyoung doesn't even react, like he's _actually_ been put to sleep by San. It's cute, but slightly concerning. He leans down to Wooyoung's ear. "Put your arms around my neck, okay?"

With an incoherent mumble, Wooyoung latches onto San's neck, locking his hands around him. San steadies his hold to accommodate the change while the circle watches in awe. "Are you... just gonna carry him like that?" Jinho pipes up suddenly.

"Just to get him upstairs. I'll call us an Uber, don't worry."

Except he doesn't.

He carries Wooyoung up the stairs, out the door, ignoring any looks he might have gotten as he steps back out into the late summer night breeze. Wooyoung's breaths have become so tranquil, so pleasant to listen to as opposed to the obnoxiously loud bass from the music. San finds himself smiling all the way back to his condo (he doesn't know where the key to Wooyoung's apartment is; he even asks the barely conscious human who slurs, "I dunno" back to him).

And that's when he gets an idea.

He shrouds himself in a crook in between buildings and launches himself up.

***

Wooyoung wakes up to the sound of sirens. He jolts with panic, because _what if San just killed again?_ , but there are hands on his shoulders before he can let out a scream. "Shh, Wooyoung, it's me. Just me."

"Oh, San." Wooyoung puts a hand to his chest, letting out a sigh. "I heard sirens. Thought you did something."

San chuckles. "What do you take me for?"

"Um, a heart-eating demon?"

"Touché."

Wooyoung shudders, the breeze seemingly a lot chillier than he remembers. The night is calm, the lights from the city skyline providing illumination; it's a lot more colorful than he's used to, almost like there are multicolored spotlights waving around—

" _Holy shit_!"

Wooyoung struggles to get to his knees, his head still reeling from earlier. The ground he's on is solid concrete, but he's not _on the ground._ This time, he really does let out a scream as he glances down, the neighborhood below him serene and familiar. "San, where the hell are we?"

"We're currently twenty stories above ground, on the roof of the building I live in." San grins, eyes crescents and crinkled at the edges. "I go from rooftop to rooftop when I'm on my own. It's a nice view, isn't it?"

"How did we get up here?"

"I carried you up here."

"You have access to the roof?" Despite the breeze, the wind is easily being pulled from Wooyoung's lungs. He stumbles back onto his ass to escape the intimidating view of the drop below.

"Technically, no, but I can fly."

"You can _fly_?"

San nods, his smile remaining plastered on his face. "I don't have wings, I just kind of, um, levitate, I guess. I really only do it to get onto roofs, since it's not exactly my preferred method of travel."

Wooyoung gawks at him, the breeze ruffling his already disheveled hair. "I can take you back down if you're scared of heights," San says, the smile disappearing. "I, uh, figured I'd surprise you, but I guess I didn't think it through all that much."

"N-No, it's fine! I'm not scared of heights, just... I didn't expect to wake up and be twenty stories above ground." Wooyoung chuckles nervously, swallowing a lump in his throat. It's incredibly dry. "I'm, ah, really thirsty though. The weed, y'know." He clears his throat.

"Oh, alright." San stands up, Wooyoung's sluggish body too slow to even comprehend that he's being _lifted off the ground_ like he weighs absolutely nothing. The human lets out a surprised yelp, instinctively wrapping his arms around San's neck. "Fun fact, while you were incapacitated, I had to tell you to do that."

"Good to know," Wooyoung replies semi-sarcastically. San takes him to the edge of the building off to the left. "W-Wait, what are you—"

"Try not to scream, alright?"

And before he even can, San leaps off the building and plummets twenty stories down, the wind blowing their hair in all sorts of directions. Wooyoung keeps his eyes screwed shut and lips pressed together in a mostly silent scream, though he's pretty sure his eyes tear up a bit. The fall feels like forever, the sheer force of it making Wooyoung's limbs feel like jelly in San's arms, but after a little while, their movement slows, and when he opens his eyes, San is hovering just about a meter above the ground. "See?" He glances down. "Flying. Or levitating, whatever you wanna call it."

"J-Jesus, fuck," Wooyoung pants as San finally lowers himself to the ground, planting both of his feet flat against the land. Sweet, sweet land. "M-Maybe we can take another trip to a roof when I'm not, y'know, incapacitated."

"Yeah, ah, sorry about that," San says, releasing Wooyoung from his hold, though his knees falter as he leans onto the demon for support. "How are you feeling?"

"Well, I'm wide fucking awake now," Wooyoung says, his lungs struggling to keep up. His eyes are heavy, as is the rest of his body, but he's alert now that he's just fallen twenty stories being carried bridal-style by a demon whose pants he definitely wouldn't mind getting into tonight now that he knows he can scoop him up like nothing.

Wooyoung gets tired when he gets high, but he also gets just the tiniest bit horny when he eventually wakes up from his temporary marijuana-induced slumber.

"I didn't know if you kept a spare key to your apartment, and you couldn't exactly tell me where I could find one, so I took you to mine, if that's okay." San takes his hand, guiding him back out from the secluded alley and back onto the side roads of the neighborhood. "I can get you some water from the building I live in, and you can stay the night if you'd like."

_Yes, I would very much like that, holy fuck._

San chuckles. "Well, alright then."

"Wait, you heard that?" Wooyoung asks, suddenly remembering that yeah, that's something San can do apparently.

"Yes, I did. I've been hearing a lot of your thoughts recently, in case you forgot."

"Well, shit."

San squeezes his hand reassuringly as the two walk past the automatic doors to the condominium complex. To the left is reception, to the right is a smaller section dedicated to a small dining room and convenience store. San gets him a bottle of water, which Wooyoung proceeds to down as the two take the elevator up to San's condo.

"So," Wooyoung says, wiping his mouth, "you picked me up like I was nothing."

"Yeah."

"Super strength?"

San shrugs. "Maybe. I don't exactly exert a lot of energy when I do things, probably because I'm not a living creature."

Wooyoung figures he should get used to finding these sorts of things out by now. From telepathy to flying to inhuman strength, San just continues to surprise him with abilities. Wooyoung should be used to it; hell, he should be expecting it by now.

"But to return to a previous conversation," San says as the elevator comes to a halt, "I've been meaning to tell you that I promise I'm not trying to invade your thoughts. It just happens randomly. I honestly don't even hear other people's thoughts. Just yours."

"Huh." Wooyoung follows San out, his heart already beginning to pound with anticipation and slight arousal. "I must be special, then."

"Just maybe," San says, amused, and the two stop at San's door, which is still unlocked.

It's dark apart from the city lights twinkling outside the large multi-paned windows and glass door leading out to the balcony, but it's the same as how Wooyoung remembers it. Cinnamon and vanilla, which he's determined is San's scent, even though the demon doesn't realize it and will never smell it for himself. He remembers it like it was yesterday, how jittery his body had been with dread as San and Seonghwa led him here to reveal San's true identity. How San had saved his ass from going to prison. How it all began.

It's a strange sensation, being here like this instead. Where San is now his _friend_ , at least, he sure hopes the demon feels that way about him.

Not to mention that they're sort of fucking now.

"You sure you're feeling okay?" San asks as Wooyoung shrugs off his jacket and tosses it onto one of the armchairs.

"Yeah, I'm fine now that I drank something. I swear I wasn't _that_ inebriated, since I didn't have much to drink. I just get sleepy when I smoke, even if it's just a little bit. I promise I'm fine."

"Good."

San wanders off with Wooyoung on his trail. He doesn't remember seeing the rest of San's condo, as he'd passed out before he could get the grand tour of it, but holy fuck if it isn't one of the fanciest places Wooyoung has ever stepped in. The ceilings are much higher than he remembers, and though the hallway to the bedroom is short, the reveal of the bedroom makes Wooyoung's jaw drop.

He swears this isn't the bedroom he woke up in. All the curtains are drawn, offering a full wide view of the city. Hell, the whole wall is practically comprised of windows. The bed is _huge_ , untouched, and the floors are sleek and polished gray hardwood. Wooyoung looks around with his mouth hanging open. "Holy shit, San, how fucking rich are you?"

San laughs, coming up to Wooyoung from behind and wrapping his arms around his waist. "Wooyoung, you should know by now that that is a very pointless question. I assume you like the place, then."

"Y-Yeah," Wooyoung chokes out as San's embrace tightens. He shudders in the demon's arms, feeling a pair of lips attach to the nape of his neck. "I... um..."

"There's something you'd like me to do specifically, right?" San asks lowly, the vibrations tickling Wooyoung's neck, making him tremble even more. "I could hear the way your heart changed when I lifted you up like that."

Wooyoung gulps, a pitiful noise breaking from his throat. San's arms release him, but then there's a hand on the small of his back, nudging him forward towards the towering windows that overlook the city. It's definitely one of the higher condos, as the view had looked similar from the rooftop. San's hand slides under Wooyoung's shirt, his slender fingers toying with the band of his jeans. The height, the arousal, all of it is overwhelming his senses, igniting his limbs, and making his heart pound.

"Tell me what you want, out loud," San orders as Wooyoung stares blankly out the window, doing his damn best to ignore those teasing hands that are already starting to wander downward past both his jeans and underwear.

"I—" Wooyoung hisses as San grips one of his ass cheeks, his nails digging into the thick flesh. "—w-want you to fuck me."

"How?" San asks, grabbing his waist and spinning him until his back is pressed up against the glass. "How do you want me to fuck you?"

"Pick me up," Wooyoung squeaks as San's hands reattach to his ass through his jeans. "Pick me up and fuck me against the glass."

"There we go." San chuckles, his voice now dark with lust, as he practically yanks Wooyoung's shirt off his body. "That wasn't so hard, was it?"

"F-Fuck, San," Wooyoung whimpers as the demon sinks to his knees, tugging his own shirt off before popping the buttons on Wooyoung's jeans.

San moves hastily, ridding both of them of the rest of their clothes like his existence depends on it. He takes Wooyoung's cock down his throat, a feeling that the human swears he will never get used to because _shit,_ his mouth is so fucking hot and wet around him, and whenever the tip of his dick collides with the back of his throat, Wooyoung sees God. The glass is cold, though it's quickly warming from the amount Wooyoung is sweating, trembling, all while San swallows around him with no trouble whatsoever.

"S-San, fuck, I—"

"Want you to come," San pulls off to say, those demonic eyes boring into his. "Come as many times as you can. Until you can't anymore."

Something in Wooyoung bursts, his body feeling like it's lighting aflame, sending signals straight to his dick as it stands straight against his belly. San tongues at it teasingly, hands coming up to grip Wooyoung's hips.

"San, w-what did you do to me?" Wooyoung asks, his dick rock hard, almost painfully so. "It feels s-so good."

"I'm a sex demon," San says simply, stroking Wooyoung's wet cock. "I'm just... helping you out a bit, if that's okay."

"Fuck, that's more than okay." Wooyoung groans, head throwing back against the glass, as his hips involuntarily thrust forward. San captures him in his mouth again, his dick instantly colliding with the back of the demon's throat.

Wooyoung silently prays that the walls are soundproof. Never once in his life has he felt this much pleasure; it's as if the pleasure is coursing through his veins, carried in his blood, to the point where his entire body is being electrified by arousal. The glass provides nothing to grab onto, his clammy fingers desperately sliding against it.

_You can fuck my mouth if you want. I can take it._

"Fuck, San!" Wooyoung gasps, grabbing onto San's hair, finally finding leverage as he thrusts into the demons mouth. San never breaks eye contact with him once, though his eyelids flutter as Wooyoung fucks his face, testing the limits with how fast he can go, and he quickly finds out that there are none. In combination with his thrusts, he slams San's head against him, his dick continuously hitting deep into San's mouth, and hell, Wooyoung is pretty sure he can _feel_ when San's mouth ends and his throat begins.

What's more, San _moans_ as Wooyoung fucks his mouth, the vibrations rising from his throat sending Wooyoung even further into this scorching pleasure, and all it takes for Wooyoung to come is San's voice in his head begging, _Please, Wooyoung, come down my throat._

San swallows around it all, his face buried in Wooyoung's pelvis as the human comes several spurts directly into the demon's throat. "S-San, I... holy shit." Wooyoung gasps for breath as San pulls off, swallowing that last few bits of Wooyoung's come before standing up, face leveled with his, his eyes glowing a _crimson red._ "San, your eyes..."

"You do things to me, Wooyoung," San all but growls, pressing his body up against Wooyoung's. The demon's cock is hard against his, still wet with saliva and come, but Wooyoung can _feel_ it, he can feel _San._ The amount of energy, heat, _power_ radiating off of this demon is making his head spin, his cock lurching as more pleasure is injected into his body. He doesn't know what the fuck San is doing, but whatever it is, it's causing his cock to stand straight despite having orgasmed not even five minutes ago.

"Do you have lube?" San asks.

"Y-Yeah, in my wallet." Wooyoung weakly motions to his crumpled up jeans, and San swiftly fishes it out and takes the two packets of lube out.

Wooyoung silently hopes that it's enough.

He turns around and spreads his legs apart to grant San's slicked up fingers access to his hole. His upper body is squished up against the glass, back arched as two of San's fingers slip inside him, and somehow, it doesn't hurt. Two fingers at once _should_ hurt, at least a little. He wonders if that's another effect San's having on him.

Even so, San is really pushing _his_ limits now, because with every thrust of his fingers, he brushes up against the spot inside him that makes him weak at the knees, sending even more sparks surging out to the rest of his body. His toes curl underneath him, his cock leaking against his stomach.

When Wooyoung feels San's hot tongue against his rim, he loses it. His knees buckle, and San has to catch him and hold him up so his tongue can continue its work. An arm wraps around his knees and squeezes them, locking them into place and holding Wooyoung steady.

"San, your _tongue_ ," Wooyoung cries, reaching down to stroke his aching cock, only to have his hand swatted away.

 _Don't touch yourself. Only_ I _can make you come tonight._

A whimper hitches in Wooyoung's throat as San's fingers enter him again alongside his tongue. "Please, _please_ , San, fuck me already!"

A soft smack lands on one of Wooyoung's cheeks before he feels himself being lifted, _finally_ , and it all happens so fast, how San spins Wooyoung around and hoists him up, his back curved against the window, body trapped between it and San's. The demon holds him low enough that his cock can reach Wooyoung's hole; it slides into him effortlessly without San needing his hands to push it in for him. Wooyoung watches their lower halves in amazement, his hole taking San's cock eagerly like it was made to do so. Another ripple of pleasure courses throughout his body, pooling in his lower abdomen as San thrusts into him shallowly.

San has his arms hooked under Wooyoung's thighs, the humans legs spread further than he's ever had to go before. The pain is bearable, hell, it's _addicting_ , and he's able to stay pressed up against the window from how hard San is pushing into him. "Gonna lower your legs now, okay?" San says.

"What—"

Before he can wrap his head around it, San releases his legs, opting for placing his hands on Wooyoung's ass, spreading him open even more. A broken moan pours out of Wooyoung's mouth as his arms fly up to wrap around the back of San's neck to hold himself up. San holds him, his cock drilling straight up into him as he backs up from the window. Wooyoung, now fully subject to San's hold with nothing else to grab onto but the back of the demon's neck, cries out as he feels San's cock colliding right into his prostate, the new found angle causing friction both inside and out. His cock ruts in between their torsos, leaking helplessly.

"Holy fuck, San, you're so f-fucking deep," Wooyoung moans, nipping at San's neck. He's pretty sure there are tears forming in the corners of his eyes from how much his body is taking in, what with San's power and all doing who knows what to him. San growls in response, burying himself inside Wooyoung, his cock pressing directly into his prostate, and Wooyoung's mouth falls open in a silent scream as stars erupt in his vision.

"San, right there, _fuck_!" Wooyoung cries, constant, broken moans pouring from his mouth, eyes squeezing shut as pleasure threatens to seize his entire body. He's entirely at San's mercy, the demon holding all the power over him. Fuck, he isn't even _moving_ , and Wooyoung is a whining mess. "Gonna come, _ah—_!"

San somehow manages to push forward even more, backing him into the window once more as he releases onto his stomach, several spurts of come painting his skin as he struggles to even produce a moan. The demon lowers him down, but his legs are so weak, his body fragile from the power, that he nearly collapses as soon as his feet touch the ground.

"You can do it," San encourages, wiping his hand across Wooyoung's stomach to collect his semen. He licks every single drop off his fingers, sucking them clean before helping Wooyoung up again, turning the human around to face the city skyline. "You can come again."

"S-San, I don't know if I can," Wooyoung says meekly, his voice apparently having escaped him too.

"You _can_ ," San says firmly. It's not threatening by any means. San is _encouraging_ him. And with the demon's influence flooding his body, Wooyoung is pretty damn sure he could come again.

_Until you can't anymore._

San pushes into him again, Wooyoung's arms and hands now flat against the window as he's fucked face first into it. Somehow, his cock is _still_ hard despite having come twice already. "Look," San says, bending over Wooyoung and pressing his lips against the human's earlobe. "Look at you, so _beautiful_."

The lighting from the bedroom offers just enough light for a reflection to be showcased, a translucent image of Wooyoung being fucked from behind, his body bent at almost a right angle, face completely drained but still so desperate. His throat is a mess; it's dried up again and his moans are barely moans. His head feels like mush, completely fucked out, and his legs are straining just to keep himself up. If it weren't for San's power, he'd be unconscious by now.

"I wonder," San says, "if anyone can see you right now. Would you like that, Wooyoung? Do you like it knowing that other people can see you like this?"

Wooyoung whimpers, his brain barely able to form a cohesive thought for San to read. "Fuck, Wooyoung," San groans, wrapping one arm around Wooyoung's abdomen while the other holds onto his shoulder. He leans into the humans neck, his _breaths_ hot against Wooyoung's ear. "Want me to fill you up again?"

"P-Please," Wooyoung pleas weakly.

With just a few more thrusts, San does exactly that, his come filling Wooyoung to the brim as the human releases whatever's left of him. His heart is beating so hard it feels like it could stop, his entire body useless, and when San pulls out, he finally collapses, and San follows. Come leaks out of his ass and onto the hardwood floor, and he can see the tiniest stain of come on the window.

"You did so well," San murmurs, both of his arms wrapping around Wooyoung, encasing him in _warmth._

"'m so tired," the human croaks, eyes struggling to stay open.

"It's okay," San says, petting the human's hair. "We'll get you cleaned up, and you can go to sleep. Or you can go to sleep now and leave the cleaning up to me."

Wooyoung nods, already feeling his body drifting among the clouds. "Okay."

As the rest of San's power simmers down, Wooyoung allows himself to fall into darkness.

***

"San."

San is sort of sick of Seonghwa appearing out of nowhere. Can't he even bother to say hello?

"Seonghwa," San acknowledges, completely monotone.

"Now is not the time for your sarcasm, San. There is something you need to know."

San frowns, turning around to see Seonghwa standing there, poised with his hands positioned behind his back like a fucking butler or something. "What?"

"I went to reap a soul in a town relatively far from here, perhaps seven hours by vehicle, and what I found was... quite daunting." The reaper pulls out his cell phone from his back pocket (San still can't get over that) and opens it up as he walks to San’s side.

It's a photo of a body torn open, split down the middle, face entirely mangled and intestines spilling out from the sides. The skull is bashed in, blood masking what doesn't even appear to be human anymore. The victim's clothes are missing, as are the rest of any physical features that would indicate an identity. It's a photo of flesh and bones, that's it.

Seonghwa swipes through the reel of photos he took. Seeing as this is nothing new to San, the incubus observes them carefully showing no form of repulsion. "This soul was quite out of my way, but I could feel it even from here. If I had not reaped it, perhaps it would have transformed into a demon," Seonghwa states.

"Do you think it was a demon who did this?" San asks, frowning.

Seonghwa shakes his head, swiping to a picture that's a direct view from above, showcasing the open body. San is no anatomy expert, but even he can tell what's missing. "This was not the work of a demon," Seonghwa says. "It is sloppy. Not to mention this." He swipes to the final picture, a message written in blood on the wall.

_"From the Heart-Ripping Killer"_

"What the fuck?" San exclaims, snatching the reaper's phone. He stares at the bloody message, feeling anger bubbling up inside him. "Who the fuck did this?"

"I do not know," Seonghwa answers robotically (of course). "The thing is, San, I do believe this is the work of the human. The work is very sloppy, and the damage appears to have been done with a human weapon. If I had to guess, whoever did this is quite a fanatic of the Heart-Ripping Killer. The human psyche is difficult to understand, but that is what I believe."

"So... you're saying a human knows about the Heart-Ripping Killer and, like, wants to be like him? Well, in this case, it's me." San adds an awkward laugh.

Seonghwa nods. "I believe the culprit wants to replicate your killings, but... this was more than just that. Whoever did this, did it out of insanity. Violence. Evil intentions. For all we know, this victim could have been, and probably was, an innocent."

"Fuck," San curses, a sharp sigh escaping him.

"Obviously the authorities are going to look into it, but this murder is very noticeably different," Seonghwa says. "I do not know what conclusion they will reach, but... who knows if this person will come to this area?"

"If they do, I'm going to rip their fucking heart out and eat it," San grumbles, handing the phone back to Seonghwa. "I don't care what conclusions the authorities come to. It's not like I'm the one who's gonna get caught."

"San... I trust you and what you do, but there is Wooyoung to worry about."

The name makes San pause. "I do not know what goes on between you two, although I have a fairly good idea of what does, but remember, San, he is only human."

"He'll be fine," San snaps as if Wooyoung could hear them. He can't, obviously, as he's sleeping soundly in San's bed in the condo beneath the very roof San is standing on.

Seonghwa sighs. "He is not invincible like you, San. He has limits. I hope you remember that."

San narrows his eyes at the reaper suspiciously. "Are you _sure_ you didn't see us tonight?"

"What?" Seonghwa tilts his head questioningly. Apart from that one encounter, to San's knowledge, Seonghwa still doesn't know jack shit about sex.

"Never mind." The thought leaves immediately. "But really, Seonghwa. He'll be okay. He has me, and if anything or anybody tries to hurt him, I'll protect him."

"It is not that I am worried about, San," Seonghwa says. "I can tell you are becoming very fond of him. You are growing attached."

San raises an eyebrow. "I'm not—" He pauses.

 _"You_ sure _you aren't his boyfriend?"_

_"Do you want to be?"_

San sucks in his bottom lip, sighing deeply. "I'm not getting attached," he mutters, but there is absolutely no conviction to his voice.

"Perhaps it is not Wooyoung that I am worried about, but _you_ , rather," Seonghwa says. "If Wooyoung does reach a limit, a point where you have to wipe his memory and leave him, would you be prepared to do that?"

Leaving Wooyoung? San hadn't even thought of it. He hasn't had to think of it. "I'm not going to let anything like that happen—"

"Some things are out of our control, San," Seonghwa says, his tone growing firmer with each word. "Seeing that scene made me realize that. I have seen my fair share of dead bodies, San, and not once have I seen anything quite like this. This culprit is trying to be like _you_ , San, and while I know you are nothing like this murderer, you are still indirectly involved in this."

San swallows as he takes in Seonghwa's words. "It made me realize that Wooyoung is truly caught up in a demented world, _our_ world. The world of demons. He is human. He is not accustomed to the existence of a demon like we are. He has a breaking point, and if he reaches it, you know what you have to do—"

"I know—"

"—but my worry is what will happen to _you_ afterwards."

San pauses, staring blankly at the reaper, whose facial expression remains unchanged. "You're worried about me?"

Seonghwa shrugs. "I consider you a valuable partner, what humans call a 'friend.' And from what I am seeing, Wooyoung is... more than that to you."

"He isn't—"

Of all things, Seonghwa cuts him off with a _laugh._ "I believe that is the human in you, San. If Yeosang's theory is correct, that you were a demon born from a human, then it would stand to reason as to why you have taken such a liking to Wooyoung."

"Then what about you? You just said I was your friend—"

"And nothing more," Seonghwa affirms. "You, on the other hand, seem to be developing specific emotions towards Wooyoung, emotions that can be quite dangerous if anything were to ever go wrong. And San, in a world like ours, things can go very, very wrong, especially when it involves a human."

Speechless, San turns around, seating himself at the edge of the building, dangling his legs off the edge. Seonghwa follows his actions. "You said in the beginning you would have no problem wiping his memories," Seonghwa says. "It has changed now. I can tell."

San swallows and looks down. The city lights have almost seemed to dim.

"Yeah," he says, letting out a hefty sigh. Just a few stories below, the human is resting, beating heart and flowing lungs and all. Wooyoung, the human he's gotten to know so well. He remembers it too, how he said it so confidently, not knowing where this whole thing would end up.

_"I believe that is the human in you."_

"He makes me feel human," San whispers, the breeze wisping his hair back.

Seonghwa hums, gazing out at the night's horizon. "Perhaps that is what you have been searching for all this time. What the human in you has sought ever since you were reborn a demon."

San's chest feels heavy. That's new.

"It is merely a theory, though."

Right. Just a theory.

"But I do not blame you, San," Seonghwa says. "While it is impossible for me to sympathize with you, I can imagine you must have gone through an excruciating amount of pain for your death to become a rebirth. Souls... should pass on. They should be at rest. Yours was dragged into an undesired existence."

San scoffs. "Well, I don't exactly have a fucking choice now. I'm a demon."

"That is true. But with Wooyoung, you find relief. Solace. If that is what makes you happy, who am I to tell you what to do with your existence, demon or not?"

San looks over at Seonghwa, whose eyes are still fixed straight ahead. "I believe that you will make the right choices, San," Seonghwa says. "Through whatever comes with our existences, I will stand by your side."

San takes a deep breath. He's been doing that a lot, actually. Somehow, it feels _good_ to breathe, even though he doesn't need to.

"Thank you, Seonghwa," San says.

He lays back against the concrete roof while Seonghwa remains upright, gazing up at the starless sky, wondering what Wooyoung is dreaming about. He closes his eyes.

The human in him breathes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well........... the plot thickens
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/galaxysangs)


	8. octō

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw for mentions of death, suicide, and rape towards the end
> 
> some more smut!! san can self lubricate and it tastes like strawberries ;)
> 
> also this chapter contains a lot of backstory and lore, specifically wooyoung's past and overall demon lore. the lore is specific to this fic so like i said in the beginning just take it as it is lol it's also a lot of reading and may be confusing and for that i'm sorry :')

Wooyoung wakes up to a stinging sensation in his thighs and a burn between his ass cheeks. The base of his back aches, and his shoulders are stiff as he attempts to sit up. He's tucked beneath a comforter wearing nothing but a pair of silk pajama pants and a fresh pair of underwear when he realizes, _oh, that happened._

He winces as he manages to sit up, pressing his back up against the plush headboard of the king-sized bed, taking a few moments to remember that this is San's bedroom, high ceilings and glass windows for walls. The curtains are closed now, blocking out nearly all sunlight, and there's a rustle beside him. "Oh, hi, Wooyoung." The human glances over to see San sitting up against the headboard, shirtless, reading a book. "How'd you sleep?"

"Alright," Wooyoung murmurs sleepily. "Jesus fucking Christ, my ass hurts."

San giggles, that demon, and shuts his book, placing it off to the side. "Not too long ago you _did_ say you wanted me to fuck you until you couldn't think straight," he points out, smirking.

"Yeah, I guess I did say that," Wooyoung admits, chuckling and pushing himself up against the headboard. "But fuck, I'm gonna have a hard time walking for a few days. Good thing I'm off until Monday. That'll give me some time to rest my ass."

"I'm sorry about that, though," San says genuinely. "I kinda lost control last night. If it happens again, you can tell me to stop—"

"It's fine," Wooyoung reassures him with a smile. "It was overwhelming, yeah, but god, it felt so fucking good. Whatever your demon powers did to me was unreal. Like, I _really_ couldn't think straight and it felt like my body was on fire or something. It was really good." He scooches over closer to San's side and rests his head on the demon's shoulder.

"If I'm being honest, I'm not exactly sure _what_ my sex powers do to people, since I don't really utilize them. Would you mind, um, telling me what you felt?"

Despite being fucked senseless, Wooyoung still has a good memory of the way he'd felt. Electric, fire, his body flooding with nothing but pleasure. How his cock stood up even though he'd already come, how energized yet exhausted he was. If San hadn't stopped himself, Wooyoung would've kept going, taking whatever San gave to him, probably until his entire mortal body gave out. The thought of it is chilling once he realizes that _that_ is what San is meant to do.

He _is_ an incubus after all. One who feeds off of sex, evil hearts, and human energy.

Wooyoung could've been fucked until he literally died.

"It was just constant pleasure," Wooyoung tells him. "My dick wouldn't go down even after I came, and I was so fucking tired yet turned on at the same time. You really _did_ fuck me until I couldn't think straight, if at all. I literally couldn't think of anything to say to you through your telepathy or whatever."

Expecting the demon to be amused, Wooyoung looks at him expectantly, but San remains straight-faced, maybe even a little concerned. "Wooyoung, you're still human and you have your limits, even with my power. I need to be more careful next time. If I hadn't stopped, I could've killed you."

Well, there he goes, ripping the words right out of his brain. "Y-Yeah, um. That wouldn't be cool."

"I'll be gentler with you next time, I promise." San chuckles, crawling on top of Wooyoung under the covers, taking the human by surprise. He plants a chaste kiss to Wooyoung's lips and smiles. "I don't want to hurt you."

"You're far from it," Wooyoung murmurs, smiling back up at San, who's looking at him in a way that makes him feel _wanted._ When San looks at him like that, he does his best not to look away, tries to look back at him with the same eyes because Wooyoung really _does_ want San in his life. Not just in a sexual way.

He just wants San in his life in whatever way. He really, truly enjoys having this sex demon around.

"As much as I'd love to have morning sex with you, I think I need to recover," Wooyoung jokes. "We can make out, though."

"Of course. Whatever you'd like."

Wooyoung is grateful San has no sense of taste or smell. Morning breath be damned.

\---

It's like déjà vu, when Wooyoung hears that news report.

He's sweeping the café mid-shift when it comes on. San is there too, sitting at his usual spot, when the news anchor announces the death of a new victim. Wooyoung squints at the television, honing in on the reporter's voice and making sure he's hearing right. He's been with San for the past few days and nights, and he's sure the demon would tell him whenever he kills.

The report doesn't show anything, just claims the victim's death with no true identity and the location of the crime, which is in a province a good six hours away. Wooyoung glances over at San, who's watching the report with a neutral expression, though he notices the tiniest furrow in his brows. To Wooyoung's surprise, the new report lasts just over a minute, with no details as to _exactly_ where and the body was found, who it was, or what the body looked like, but they did say it was probably another Heart-Ripping Killer victim, as the heart had been ripped from their chest.

Wooyoung keeps his eyes on San and his ears on the report. The demon stares stone-faced at the television until the report ends. Unable to have a full conversation while working, the human continues sweeping, picking up the trash the customers graciously leave him, and waits.

When he brings the dish bin to the back for washing, Yeoju appears by his side while the other barista, Myungsook, remains outside. "Wooyoung-ah," the head barista whispers, elbowing him in the ribcage, "you saw the report, right?" Wooyoung nods silently in response. "Looks like the Heart-Ripping Killer is making their rounds. But fuck, I mean, at least they're not in the area anymore."

"Y-Yeah." Wooyoung bites his inner lip as he empties the dish bin.

"They didn't release the name of the victim, which is weird," Yeoju points out. "Usually they give the name of the victim... unless they haven't identified the victim yet."

The statement makes a shiver run down Wooyoung's spine. They haven't identified the victim? Just how long does it take to do that?

 _San. San can you hear me?_ Wooyoung tries.

There's no response. The human lets out a heavy sigh as Yeoju rubs her hand comfortingly on Wooyoung's shoulder. "It'll be alright, Woo. The killer's not in the area anymore."

Oh, if only she knew.

Wooyoung's shift ends at nine like it usually does. Yeoju's taken quite a liking to San, even without his special demon powers influencing her opinion of him, so she lets him stay until they close, which is a privilege only Yunho and Mingi have received thus far. Before they're about to leave, Yeoju leaves them two hot chocolates (with whipped cream!) and a warm smile. "Enjoy your night, guys!" she calls out with a wave. Wooyoung reciprocates and heads out into the breeze, a lot chillier now, as late summer exits and early autumn rises.

"So," Wooyoung speaks up after his first sip of hot chocolate (bless Yeoju, it's delicious), "what was that news report today? Have you been killing again?"

"No," San answers, tone laced with annoyance. "I haven't. Seonghwa actually told me about it over the weekend. He went to reap this person's soul. Said he could feel it even from here, so I'm guessing he traveled there on his own."

"Can he teleport or something? The body was found six hours away."

"I'm guessing he can, or he travels between dimensions or something. I don't know. But whatever the case, it wasn't me." There's truth to San's words; it's as if Wooyoung can sense it. He trusts that San will tell him whenever he kills. He's had no problem doing it before. "He took pictures. I don't have them, but based on what he showed me, I'm guessing that the reason why they didn't show the body or a name was because the body was maimed beyond the point of recognition."

A sudden breeze and a sense of dread knocks the wind from Wooyoung's lungs. "W-What? What did it look like?"

"It was practically torn open from head to toe, split down the middle. Face was mangled, clothes were gone, guts spilling everywhere. Couldn't even tell if it was a man or woman. It was pretty much all flesh and blood, limbs were still intact, though. The heart was gone, and the authorities didn't mention this, but the words 'From the Heart-Ripping Killer' were written in blood on the wall behind the body."

"Holy shit." Wooyoung unknowingly slows his pace on the pavement as he lets the news sink in. San's never done _that_ before. "So... does Seonghwa know who did it?"

San shakes his head, his face appearing troubled. "No. He could only collect the person's soul. He does, however, think it was a human who did it."

" _What_?" Wooyoung nearly shrieks.

"He thinks that the human is some sort of Heart-Ripping Killer fanatic that they went ahead and replicated their killings. Well, in this case, me, but you know me, Wooyoung, I don't leave my victims completely mauled beyond the point of recognition."

"So... a copycat crime?"

"Yeah. Is that what they're called?"

Wooyoung nods. "It's in a lot of TV shows, happens in real life too. Sometimes, really psychotic people want to replicate past crimes because they feel inspired or some shit. It's insane. You think that whoever did this wanted to replicate your killings?"

"That's Seonghwa's theory, but his intuition is pretty trustworthy. He's literally a demon of death, after all. He has a knack for this sort of thing. He said that it looked like the damage was done by a human weapon, not claws or anything like that."

"I mean, it could've been a demon wielding a human weapon."

"Doubtful. I mean, it's technically a possibility, but I feel like if it were a demon wanting to somehow show up another demon, they would have sought me out, you know? Besides, a lot of demons prefer to hide themselves from humans. I'm pretty much the only anomaly."

Wooyoung hums, racking his brain for other possibilities, but if Seonghwa, the literal reaper of human souls, angel of death or whatever, says that it was probably a human who did it, then it was probably a human who did it. But that raises the notion of, _what the fuck_? Why would a human be going around trying to replicate San's killings?

"The victim... they weren't... innocent, were they?"

San chews the inside of his lip. "I wouldn't be surprised if they were."

"Fuck."

A heavy silence hangs in the air between them as they continue their way down the pavement back to Wooyoung's apartment. As curious as Wooyoung is about the body and what Seonghwa had seen, he's also terrified. He remembers how terrifying the one encounter with Dongsuk and Haneul (San) had been, and what he saw then is still enough to make his skin crawl. He can only imagine the horror he'd feel if he saw the photo San described.

Just thinking about San's description of it makes his stomach churn.

"Are you going to try and find out who it is?" Wooyoung asks in a small voice.

There's a brief moment of silence as San contemplates his answer, and while Wooyoung doesn't necessarily know what answer he's hoping for, he'll understand either way.

"I don't think I will," San finally answers. "Yes, what they did was awful. That person deserves to have their heart torn out and eaten, and I would be glad to do so. But I'm also not about to go out of my way to find them. If they come to the area, if I hear their heartbeat, _then_ I will take action."

Wooyoung can't help the slight stab of disappointment. "I know what you're thinking," San says. "You're thinking that more innocent people are going to die because of this person, that _I_ have to be the one to find them and punish them because I know what they're doing." Wooyoung bites his bottom lip (perhaps a habit he's picked up from San), because is he really that obvious? Is San in his head again? Or is the way he's thinking just human nature? "And yes, that may very well be a possibility. But at the same time, I... I have a reason to stay here."

Wooyoung swallows a nervous lump in his throat, wondering if San can hear the way his inner workings are panicking. "Like I said, if the person comes through this area, then I will find them. But unless that happens, I won't go searching for them."

"San," Wooyoung says, his pace slowing, "be honest. Am I the reason you want to stay here?"

The demon says nothing, just continues walking by Wooyoung's side until the human comes to a stop in a silent demand of an answer. A few steps ahead, San's shoulders sag, and he turns around to face him. "Yes, Wooyoung," he says, "you are the reason I want to stay here."

Two emotions flood Wooyoung at that moment, a sense of gratitude and a sense of guilt. He feels warm, _safe_ , knowing that San is around, _wants_ to be with him, but are innocent people really going to die because San wants to stay with him? Wooyoung wouldn't be able to sleep at night knowing that _he_ _'s_ the reason why people are going to be murdered and mutilated. He wants San to find this person.

_He wants San to rip their heart out._

Oh, god. Is San rubbing off on him or something?

"Wooyoung." San steps forward, taking the human by the wrist. "You're conflicted, I know. But you're not the reason why people are going to die."

Wooyoung glances down and winces. "The reason why people are going to die is the perpetrator themselves. _They're_ the ones who carry out the crime," San continues. His grip on Wooyoung's wrist is light, devoid of temperature. "And for all we know, the police could find this person and bring them to justice without me having to get involved. Remember, Wooyoung, I'm a demon. I make my own decisions, and this is what I'm deciding to do."

With a deep breath, Wooyoung starts walking again, and San releases his wrist to follow him. "San," Wooyoung says, his eyes fixed ahead of him, "promise me that if this person _does_ come around, that you'll find them and eat their heart."

_Oh, Wooyoung._

Wooyoung doesn't turn his head. "You have my word," San says firmly, his hand inserting itself between them, fingers barely brushing against Wooyoung's. The human is the one to make that move, to interlace their fingers, hand-in-hand.

"I trust you, San."

"And I, you," the demon says, squeezing his hand.

Wooyoung swears he can feel the slightest bit of warmth.

\---

Yunho and Mingi have been out of the apartment a lot more recently, and while Wooyoung doesn't necessarily know the reason why, he's certainly happy about the fact. It gives Wooyoung a lot more free reign and lead San to his bedroom, to strip both of them of their clothes and eventually wind up naked on his bed, hands all over each other like they've never been touched before. Through their encounters, Wooyoung has noticed something along the way.

San gets warm whenever they lie together.

The demon is kissing down his bare chest, tongue gliding along the sensitive skin as Wooyoung holds his head close.

And there's another thing.

Wooyoung can feel hot puffs of air against his skin. San _breathes_ whenever they're intimate.

He assumes this must be a demon thing, a _sex demon_ thing, because these attributes seem to lie dormant on the daily basis. But that's okay, _more than okay_ , knowing that he's the one making San feel this way. That he makes San feel like he needs to breathe. That he's able to make San radiate heat. He wonders if anyone else has managed to do so.

"Wooyoung," San gasps, pulling his head from Wooyoung's headlock, "I want you to fuck me tonight."

And if that doesn't make Wooyoung's cock twitch with interest. "Fuck, are you sure?"

"Yes," San says. "I've always been on the receiving end... as a female. I've never done anything in this form. But, um, I've been paying attention to all the times you've been receiving, and it seems... immensely pleasurable."

"It is, especially with you." Wooyoung's fingers trail down San's chest, down to his crotch, where a bulge has already begun to show through his jeans. "So it'll be your first time as a male?"

San nods. "I don't know how things will go, but I'm very willing to do it. If being fucked feels good for you, I'm sure it'll feel good for me too."

"What about when you've gotten fucked as a female? Was is pleasurable?"

San shrugs with a slight shake of the head. "Not really. As I've said before, the only times I've used sex was to feed or kill. I don't really derive pleasure from sex in general, but with you, it's something completely different. I feel true pleasure whenever I'm with you like this." His fingers, warm and rough, make their way to Wooyoung's hips and squeeze as if to prove his point.

"Okay." Wooyoung lets out a deep breath. "Okay."

The demon lets Wooyoung climb on top of him as he undoes his jeans, allowing the human to slide them off. He's already hard, of course, and Wooyoung discards the rest of his own clothing until they're both fully naked. With careful, deliberately lazy touches, Wooyoung mouths at San's chest, fingers dancing along his sides. San lets out the tiniest of moans, and Wooyoung can feel his cock twitching against his stomach, a patch of precome forming between their bodies.

Wooyoung doesn't know how the fuck it's possible, but whenever he blows San, he tastes strawberries.

"San," Wooyoung says, looking up at the demon as his tongue pokes out to lick the head of his cock. "I know you don't taste anything, but your precome tastes like strawberries. It's _sweet_ , nothing like a human's."

San chuckles. "I guess it must be a sex demon thing."

In a sugary sweet haze, Wooyoung swirls his tongue around the tip, savoring the flavor in disbelief and awe. It's, quite literally, like licking a lollipop. It's hot and heavy in his mouth, the taste of sweet strawberries coating his taste buds, and the _smell_ , the intoxicating scent paired with the taste, has Wooyoung salivating all over San's cock, adding more to the mess. He finds himself bobbing his head with such intensity, such rapid movements that he almost forgets to breathe. When he finally pulls off to gasp for air, a long strand of saliva forms between his tongue and San's cock. "God, Wooyoung," San groans, "your mouth feels amazing."

"Your cock _tastes_ amazing." Wooyoung swallows the large amount of spit that has accumulated in his mouth and leans back in. "It's fucking addicting."

San hums as Wooyoung engulfs his cock once more, the amount of fluids making his motions ridiculously easy. Wooyoung's never had an easier time sucking dick in his life. Don't get him wrong, Wooyoung _loves_ sucking dick, but this? This is on a whole other level. It's easy, intoxicating, _addicting._

It must really be a sex demon thing.

"San," Wooyoung gasps as he pulls of again. "Lift your legs."

San obeys instantly with Wooyoung's hands to guide him. His legs raise into the air with Wooyoung's hands splayed on his thighs, both holding them up and spreading his ass. San's hole quivers around nothing, hairless and pink, and glistening with what Wooyoung assumes is his saliva. He dives in, flattening his tongue on San's rim, and San _whimpers._

"Oh... oh my." His voice is trembling, as are his thighs. "F-Fuck, Wooyoung, that feels so good."

What Wooyoung tastes is even better. As circles his tongue along San's hole, he tastes nothing but _sweet sweet sweet_ , and it's so fucking _wet._ Whatever it is, it can't be San's precome. This is too much. Too much fluid. Too much sweetness.

"San," Wooyoung says, raising his head. He runs his fingers along San's hole, and the sight boggles his mind. His eyes widen as he notices fluid _seeping_ from San's entrance. The hole is contracting, seemingly pushing the translucent fluid out. "What... what the fuck?"

"What? Is something wrong?" San asks, sounding completely clueless.

"San, this has to be a sex demon thing because assholes don't ooze... whatever this is." Wooyoung gathers some of the fluid onto his fingers, stretching it out between his digits. It's quite viscous in texture, similar to that of... lube. The slickness almost reminds him of that of a vagina. "Are you... are you like, self-lubricating?"

"What?" San asks again. "I don't know. Like I said, I've never gotten fucked in this form."

As strange as it is to Wooyoung, he can't deny that it's kind of hot. Combined with the fact that this stuff coming out of San's asshole tastes like strawberries, he seriously can't complain.

When Wooyoung finally gets fingering San, he's near shocked when the hole practically sucks a finger in, somehow loose and tight at the same time. San's insides feel just like that of a human's, clenching and unclenching around his single finger. San doesn't even flinch. Intrigued, Wooyoung slides another finger in without even moving the first, and the demon lets out a sigh of content. "Sheesh, San, do you even need to be fingered?" Wooyoung asks.

"I don't know, but I'm _really_ eager to get your dick in me," San replies, tone suggestive.

Right, demons can't feel pain. Wooyoung assumes it would be the same way when it comes to having a dick in their ass too. Taking his fingers out elicits a whine from the demon, who shuffles his hips forward, his hole oozing more of the slick liquid. "Please, hurry, Wooyoung." Never did Wooyoung think he'd have a demon begging for his dick.

Wooyoung bites his lip, stroking his cock with his hand that's coated in San's slick before rubbing the tip against the wet hole. San gasps, rocking his hips up with each of Wooyoung's movements. "God, fuck me already, Wooyoung!" San cries, his voice cracking, and god, if that isn't one of the hottest things Wooyoung's ever heard.

Smirking, he pushes in slowly, letting San's hole swallow his cock. Despite being so easy to slide into, San's walls still cling to his dick tightly, just like that of a human's, but Wooyoung can already notice a difference. It's _wet._ It's hot and wet. Sure, fucking a dude can feel wet because of lube, but it's San's insides themselves that are wet, coating his dick in his deliciously sweet slick, sucking him in. "Holy _shit_ , San. There's no way I can last long." His cock is already twitching inside San, his thighs already feeling like they could buckle.

"Please, Wooyoung, I _need_ you to fuck me," San pleas.

Breathing hard, Wooyoung glances up, locking his eyes with San's. His eyes have begun to glow red again, but it's somehow softer this time, as his brows are creased with pleasure and desperation rather than a lust-filled frenzy. "You need to last. I need you to fuck me until I can't think."

Wooyoung has told himself numerous times that he has to stop being surprised whenever San reveals a new power. As he learned from the last time he's seen San's eyes burn red, his body reacts in the way San wants it to. But this time around, he feels some sort of boost, his blood rushing everywhere as he pushes himself forward, grabbing onto the bends of San's knees and effectively folding the demon in half. The change in angle makes the demon keen as Wooyoung burrows further deep inside him. "Fuck, Wooyoung!"

"You wanna be fucked like this?" Wooyoung doesn't relent with his first thrust, snapping his hips forward, and they land against San's ass with a loud slap.

"Y-Yes, it's s-so deep," San whines, his mouth parted and eyelids hooded. "Fuck me just like this."

And Wooyoung obliges, standing on his feet as he plows straight into San from above. The demon lets out noises of pure pleasure, not a single ounce of pain. His cock bounces between his legs, hard and glossy from all the precome, spit, and slick. "Feels so good, Wooyoung," the demon says between moans, between _breaths._ "You're fucking me so good."

With how tight and hot San is around him, he's sure he would've come by now if it weren't for the demon's powers coursing through his body. He still can't stop thinking about how easy it was for him to get inside, how his hole is still so tight despite it. He's sure that by the end of the night, San is going to milk his cock dry.

"Wooyoung, 'm gonna come," San cries not even two minutes into Wooyoung fucking him.

"W-What? Already?"

With an elongated whine, San comes wordlessly, the position they're in causing his come to splash all over his own face. His eyes squeeze shut, his mouth open wide as his come paints his face, some getting in his mouth and landing on his cheeks. Trails of it trickle off his skin and onto the pillow underneath him, which will be a bitch to clean up, but Wooyoung can't think about that at the moment when all he can see is San's face covered in his own come.

"Fucking hell, San," Wooyoung grunts, releasing his legs and unfolding his body. He collects San's come from his face and licks it from his fingers, relishing in the strawberry flavor before San takes it upon himself to grab the back of Wooyoung's head and pull him into a tongue-filled kiss. They share San's come between them, and Wooyoung can even feel the demon deliberately pushing it into his mouth. He pulls away, feeling as if the demon has taken everything from him.

Everything, his mind, body, and soul, belongs to the demon beneath him.

"San," Wooyoung all but growls, grabbing onto San's forearms and pulling him up as he falls back so the demon lands in his lap, cock still nestled inside him. San throws his head back and instinctively begins to rock his hips back and forth, his cock still hard and erect against his stomach.

"Feels so good, Wooyoungie."

Hearing San call him that somehow makes him feel warm. Then again, hearing San like _this_ , all shrill and whiny as opposed to the rough, somewhat aggressive tone Wooyoung is used to has his whole head reeling, wanting _more_ , more of San, more of everything this demon is both taking from and giving to him.

San rides him like he's made for it (which, he technically is), his cock visibly leaking precome as he circles his hips. "Wooyoungie, Wooyoungie," San chants, almost _submissively_ , as his hips work their magic.

"Feels good, huh? You like riding my cock like this?"

"Yes, _yes_ , Wooyoung!" San exclaims. "Gonna come again, f-fuck— _ah_!"

Wooyoung is surprised at how easily San is coming. He's come _twice_ already within such a short amount of time, and it's a _lot._ Wooyoung counts nine spurts this time, all of which lands on his stomach, chest, and some even reaches his neck and chin. All the while, San's hole clenches around him, tightening as he comes, and Wooyoung's mouth drops open as he throws his head back. "F-Fuck, San, stop."

"Huh?" San's movements come to a relieving yet aching stop.

"Was gonna come," Wooyoung wheezes. "Don't wanna come yet. Wanna last as long as I can for you."

"Oh, Wooyoungie." San grins devilishly, wiping his come from Wooyoung's stomach and slowly feeding it into his mouth. Wooyoung closes his eyes, his tongue coiling around San's fingers as he sucks in the strawberry goodness. "You're so good. So, so good."

San picks himself up off of Wooyoung's cock, the drag agonizingly slow once his dick hits cold air again, and the demon rolls over on the bed, propping himself up on his hands and knees, back arched. "Like this, Wooyoung. I want it like this."

"Fuck, okay." It takes a few seconds for the human to hoist himself up, his entire body feeling both sluggish and energized at the same time, but it doesn't take him long to be buried inside San once again.

San's body is quite literally the definition of face down ass up, practically a reversed version of the position they were in before, folded in half. His ass is on full display, with Wooyoung's hands on both his cheeks as he slams into the demon, propelling him forward with every thrust. San's muffled moans are swallowed by the pillow until Wooyoung leans forward and grabs a fistful of his hair, pulling his head up. "I want to hear how good I'm making you feel," he says, and the demon's walls tighten around him in some form of a response.

And god, does San deliver. The room is filled with nothing but San's obscene moans and the sound of slick skin slapping as Wooyoung rams into him mercilessly. The human feels his thighs tightening, so close to the edge, and as if San can sense this, the demon says, "I know you wanna come. You can, want you to come inside me, fucking _fill me_."

It's the words, the absolutely lewd way he said them, that bring Wooyoung to his climax, and he comes, his semen doing exactly what San demanded, _filling him up._ San's insides milk him for everything he has as the demon comes again, the liquid landing on his sheets below. San's _panting_ , such a wonderful sound, one that only Wooyoung is able to make him produce. "Agh, Wooyoung," San groans, pushing his ass back further against Wooyoung's hips. "Feels so fucking good. I can feel your come in me."

Wooyoung hisses as he goes to pull out, only to be stopped by San continuing to lean back. "S-San, it's sensitive—"

"Just a little more," San croons, glancing over his shoulder, red eyes locking on brown. "I want you to fill me up even _more_. Until I'm _dripping_."

Wooyoung inhales sharply as another spike of energy surges through his body. His cock twitches with vitality as San's walls seem to shift around him. "Here, San," Wooyoung says, mustering up enough strength to lift San's body by the bends of his knees, holding him up as he swivels his body around until his back is pressed up against the headboard. He keeps his hands underneath San's knees, holding his legs open, and begins to thrust up into him shallowly.

"Oh, _fuck_ ," San groans, his arms spreading out on the pillows propped up behind them, one of them behind Wooyoung's head.

Holding San up is less difficult than Wooyoung would've thought, but it makes it a whole lot easier as he thrusts upwards, cock drilling into San from below. San's cock remains hard against his stomach that's still slick with come, with more of his precome continuing to add to the mix. "Oh, Wooyoung, you're s-so good. So fucking _good_."

"Want you to come again," Wooyoung says, hand coming around to latch onto San's cock. It's fucking soaked at this point, and with each stroke comes an obscenely wet sound and more precome. The scent of strawberries is overwhelming all of his senses, hell, he can still taste it on his tongue.

San's moans have reached a high at this point with Wooyoung's hips repeatedly meeting his, relentlessly, as his head lulls back, eyes blissfully closed as he manages a, "G-Gonna come again, Wooyoung."

Wooyoung has never had his hand more drenched in his life. Everything down there is so fucking _wet_ , and as San comes for a third time, he can feel more fluid seep out around his cock, out of San's hole as it clenches and unclenches, and neither of them have to _move_ before Wooyoung is coming again, doing exactly what San asked of him and filling him up.

Wooyoung's cock slips out of him with a pop, and San falls forward, landing on his elbows and knees, face down and ass spread wide open. "F-Fuck, Wooyoung, I—" He whimpers, and Wooyoung can see his entire body trembling before moans once more, a mess of come and slick pouring from his hole, dripping down onto the sheets. "Oh, _god_."

"Shit, San," Wooyoung gasps, his exhausted body collapsing back against the pillows and headboard. "That was..." He's not as spent as he'd been before, not to the point where he feels like passing out. But holy shit, staring at the way a mixture of their come keeps oozing from San's hole seems like a fever dream.

"I-I'm sorry for making a mess," San says in a small voice. "I didn't know that was something I could do. Like I said, must be an incubus thing. Makes sex easier, I guess."

"Y-Yeah." In all honesty, Wooyoung really couldn't care less.

It was the best fuck of his _life._

***

"I've never been up here," Wooyoung says, glancing around. "I don't even think the tenants come up here, honestly."

San chuckles as he observes the surroundings as well. The rooftop of Wooyoung's apartment building is flat, with nothing but an access structure and a few support rails present on the solid asphalt. It's nowhere near as high as the complex San lives at, but it's still enough so that the view of the distant city can be seen. The lights twinkle brilliantly with nightlife. "I can't be up here for long. Got school tomorrow and all."

"Yeah, that's fine. Just wanted to take you up here is all."

"I'm glad you did. I can see why you like to go rooftop-hopping during your free time. The view is nice."

"The higher the building, the nicer it is. Some really fancy places have entire pools and recreational spaces on their roofs," San says, smiling as he gazes out at the night horizon. It's not as lively as it would be on a Friday night, but the lights from the city buildings and open establishments still illuminate the night in the most beautiful way. He glances to his side, where Wooyoung is looking out in a similar fashion. "Maybe I'll take you up to one of those sometime."

"That would be so cool. Unfortunately being a college student with a busboy job coming from a middle class family doesn't exactly mean I get to experience luxurious living. That's why I was so shocked by the size of your condo."

San shrugs. "I don't even pay for it. The tenant pays out of pocket for me. They've been under my trance for years."

"Your powers never cease to amaze me." Wooyoung grins, sitting himself down on the asphalt and crossing his legs, and San does the same.

A breeze blows San's hair back. Wooyoung huddles closer to him, hugging his arms. "Sorry I don't exactly offer any warmth," San says.

"It's okay. You do get warm whenever we do anything sexual though. A sex demon thing, I'm guessing. I mean, sex without heat would be... really weird and possibly not pleasurable, so I'm guessing your body just does it whenever sex is imminent."

"I see. I've also noticed that, where I can only feel your warmth whenever we do stuff together," San says with a nod of consideration.

A moment of silence passes between them, with Wooyoung's head slotted between San's neck and shoulder, when San remembers what he's been meaning to ask the human.

"Hey, Wooyoung. Your friends that we met at the party. How did you meet them?"

A small chuckle leaves Wooyoung's lips. "It's a long story."

"I have all of eternity."

"Touché," the human says, giggling as he removes his head from San's shoulder. He lets out a deep sigh, a melancholy smile on his face. "Hongjoong's a family friend. We'd see each other all the time when we lived at home. He's a year older than me, and I always saw him as an older brother despite him being just a year older than me. I saw him as more of an older brother than I did my actual older brother."

San hums in acknowledgement as Wooyoung continues. "He was really mature for his age. A really hard worker too, even in high school. He knew what he wanted to do and he pursued it, even though his parents weren't exactly supportive of what he wanted to do."

"What did he want to do?" San asks.

"Music. He has a real knack for what sounds good and what doesn't. He'd always have me listen to his musical creations to get my opinion on it. He's majoring in music production now. I... actually came to the university just because Hongjoong did." Wooyoung laughs with a reminiscent smile.

San nods. Hongjoong must be a very important person to him. "When I got to university myself, I realized that it would be a lot more difficult than I thought. I didn't get to see Hongjoong a lot because of conflicting schedules... not to mention he had this whole other friend group. But I suppose it might have been a good thing. I'm sure that I would be completely dependent on him if we didn't distance ourselves from one another. Like he said, he's the reason I am who I am today."

"Oh, yeah. You said he helped you with your 'bi awakening.'"

"Yeah," Wooyoung says, his smile widening. "Hongjoong's bi himself. He knew it from a very early age, and didn't tell his parents until right before he was about to leave for university. His parents weren't exactly supportive of that either, but not to the point where they would disown him or anything. Well, I was the first person he told, actually. I knew before his own parents did."

"What did you think of it?"

"I was going through a tough time at school. A lot of people were starting to pick up on the fact that I like guys, though I honestly don't know where it came from. Maybe it was the way I acted, I don't know. But it was hard, going through high school like that. While I wasn't, like, bullied or anything, I was a loner. Nobody wanted to be my friend, and after a while, I just kind of stopped trying to make them. Hongjoong really was my only friend throughout high school because he knew how I was feeling."

If all shitty people were evil, there would be a lot of missing hearts, San thinks.

"Hongjoong is a very respectable, popular person. Somehow, people saw him in a completely different light than me. In my humble opinion, he was a lot more outwardly flamboyant than I was." San laughs, as does Wooyoung. "He was the reason why people didn't bully me. In that sense, he helped me too, but how he really helped me was that he always told me to be who I was with no boundaries, to live how I want to live, and to not let anybody stop me."

San's eyes gaze out at the buildings as he lets the weight of Wooyoung's words sink in. "He told me things would get better once I graduated and got to university, and honestly, it did. I got to meet his group of friends, the ones you met at the party, and we all just clicked. I felt like I belonged. Then there's Yunho and Mingi. I saw an ad they'd posted online saying that they wanted a third housemate, and I took that opportunity because the description made them seem like really cool guys, and they really were."

It's as if San can hear the smile in Wooyoung's voice. It must be beautiful. "I was always really busy with school and work, and so was Hongjoong, so we didn't really get to see each other, not even in passing. I knew things were still good between us, though, so I knew I could reach out to him. I just didn't... until something happened with this guy."

Right. San remembers Minnie mentioning something about Wooyoung getting hurt in the past. "When I got to university, I met this guy, and we hit it off pretty well. He seemed into me, and I was definitely into him. We hung out for a little while, kissed, fooled around and whatnot. It was always done in secrecy though, like, after a few dates he wanted to stop going out in public, but he'd still stop by and we'd fuck and whatever. And then one day, he just completely dropped me, ghosted me and blocked me on everything."

There's a slight lull in Wooyoung's heart, a sorrowful drop. The smile vanishes from his face. "I found out from Yunho that he had a girlfriend the entire time," Wooyoung says, gulping. His head slumps downward as he lets out a heavy sigh, lungs pushing out air slowly, _sadly._ "I guess I should've expected something like that. I knew something was up when he told me he stopped wanting to go out on dates, but he was my first. The first guy I was able to experience. Hell, he took my virginity."

Wooyoung visibly winces as he draws his knees up to his chest. "I wanted to believe that he was going to stay, but I guess that was never his intention to begin with. I think he just wanted someone to have around to fool around with, someone to use to discover his own sexuality or something, but needless to say, after all that, I was a fucking wreck, because I really did like him. Yunho offered to beat him up for me, but I told him not to. It's... it's not like anybody would believe that a _straight_ guy was fooling around with another guy."

"Wait, what? Was he straight or not?"

Wooyoung shrugs. "Beats me. But that's what everyone knew. He was straight, he had a girlfriend. Fairly well-known too. He could easily use the accusation against me, make _me_ seem like the bad guy, so I told Yunho to leave it alone. I was such a mess that I reached out to Hongjoong, and he and his friends came over within a half hour. They all offered to pummel him too, but I said the same thing to them. They left it alone too, but after that they were always on the lookout, making sure that nobody was messing with me. Eventually, though, I just... got over it. Sort of."

Wooyoung's heart beats so softly, and San wonders if he's somehow hiding that too. Hiding his heart.

"Things went back to normal. I rarely talked to Hongjoong and his friends after, and I continued with life. But yeah. That's the story of Hongjoong. And the story of how I had my heart played like a fuckin' violin."

There's another rush of wind that escapes Wooyoung's lungs. His lips are half-curved in a spiteful smile. All the while, though, his heart wavers, weeps in his chest. It's teetering between sad and angry, San notices, and understandably so. He's looking at Wooyoung, who continues to stare out at the night.

It's as if he can feel Wooyoung's heart beating in his own chest. Like Wooyoung's heart beats for his own.

San reaches over, his fingers delicately taking Wooyoung's jaw and turning it towards him. Wooyoung's eyes hang down before he looks up, glassed over with the beginning of tears. "Hongjoong is right," San says. "It's important to be who you are without boundaries. To not let anybody stop you from living how you want to live. And let me tell you, Wooyoung, you are doing just that."

A tiny smile plays at the corners of Wooyoung's lips. "Am I really?" he asks doubtfully.

"Your heart speaks wonders, Wooyoung," San murmurs, pressing his forehead to Wooyoung's. The human inhales deeply as his heart stutters. "You ramble, you say what you want to say, and while you hide sometimes, I think it's because of what you experienced, not because you necessarily want to." San lowers his hand to Wooyoung's, taking his fingers in his. "You don't have to feel the need to hide. Your heart beats beautifully, purely, even. A beautiful heart for a beautiful person."

Wooyoung sniffles and his heart skips again.

_I'm not—  
_

"You _are._ " San tightens his fingers around Wooyoung's. "You have no need to hide around me. I know who you are, Wooyoung. I know your heart like nobody else does. If everybody in the world had a heart like yours, I wouldn't need to exist."

Wooyoung lets out a sob as San brings his hand back up to his face, his thumb swiping along his cheek and wiping away a tear. The human sniffles over and over, his own shaking hand coming up to grab San's wrist, holding the demon's hand in place.

"San," Wooyoung whispers. "Can you promise me another thing?"

"Yes, anything."

"Promise me that no matter what happens, you won't wipe my memory."

"Wooyoung—"

"It's what I want, San," Wooyoung cuts him off. A single beat grows in volume. "I don't want you to leave, even if I won't remember you existed in the first place. I want to remember the way you make me feel, because _fuck_ , San, even though you're a demon, you manage to make me feel like I actually mean something. Even though you're a demon... you make me feel human."

_You make me feel human, too._

Wooyoung chuckles, then sniffles. "You make me feel _wanted_ , San. I'll admit, it wasn't really like that in the beginning, like, I felt like you were just hanging out with me because you felt bad for me or something, but... I don't know. Sometimes it feels like you actually want to be around me."

San can't help the burst of laughter that escapes him. "Of course I do, Wooyoung. I told you just the other day I didn't want to leave the area because of you."

Wooyoung lets out a shaky, amused sigh. "Then _stay._ Don't wipe my memory and don't leave."

San is well aware of the risks that come with such a promise. When he thinks about it, it's an easy promise to break, since if he were to wipe Wooyoung's memory, the human wouldn't even remember it. But then, there would be that remaining guilt within the demon himself, and it's as if Seonghwa's constant warnings replay in his head.

 _"My worry is what will happen to_ you _afterwards."_

"Then promise me that you won't leave either."

San knows it will be an empty promise. There's no way he can force Wooyoung to stay, and he understands if the human eventually feels the need to leave him. If he were to force Wooyoung to remain in his existence, he may as well rip his own heart out and end it. He would be just as bad as the people he kills, as he would be forcing Wooyoung to stay in a life filled with nothingness.

"I promise," Wooyoung says, barely above a whisper. "I promise to stay with you, San."

It's undeniably empty. But it's also freeing, knowing that a _human_ , part of a species that San targets, is willingly promising to stay with him despite the fact that he kills, rips people's hearts out and eats them. That despite the mental anguish it may cause, he is willing to become a part of San's existence.

It makes San feel _human._

San may have all the powers of a demon. He may be able to levitate, coerce people to do his bidding, unleash razor-sharp claws to tear into his victims, drain people of their life force, but the one thing that brings him back down to Earth is a _human._

_"I believe that is the human in you, San."_

And that is Wooyoung's power.

To bring out the human in him.

\---

While Wooyoung is busy with classes, San takes it upon himself to actually wander around campus and familiarize himself with it instead of waiting around. He reads the map until he becomes familiar with the layout of the place, and the first location he decides to visit is the library.

He thinks back to what Yeosang had said, how the demon would visit libraries in the shadows and research his existence. And while San isn't expecting to find any knowledge about demons in a college library, he might learn a thing or two about another subject more suited for humans.

The library is pretty big, home to six floors of bookshelves and study areas. Again, San must look extremely out of place in his wardrobe, and he gets several intrigued glances from men and women alike as he strides through the library. Reading all the signs and what sections house what subjects, he settles for the third floor, home to books about mythology and history.

As he steps out of the elevator, he's met with two hallways, to his left and write. Following the signs, he takes the right path, ending up in a section with an unsaturated multicolored carpet and old wooden bookshelves. The section is so quiet that the heartbeats he hears are near deafening, but then he hears the voices of the people they belong to. He realizes then that both the heartbeats and the voices are very familiar, and his suspicions are met when he hears, "Oh, is that San?"

It's Hongjoong's circle of friends, sans Hongjoong, gathered around a low-raised circular table with no chairs. They have their textbooks and notebooks out, so San assumes that they're studying or doing homework, but then he sees Minnie painting her nails black right over her textbook. It had been Yoomni who'd greeted him. "San! Hey, remember us?"

San chuckles, approaching the table. "Of course. Hongjoong's not here?"

"Nah, he's in the studio," Yoonmi says. "Sit, sit! We're, ahem, 'studying.'"

"I can see that." San looks over at Taeseob, who's occupying his hands with a Rubik's cube and Jinho, who's scrolling through something on his phone.

"Nobody comes through this section of the library," Minnie says, not lifting her eyes from her nails. "It's too spooky for some people to handle. Pretty sure the books here have been collecting dust for like, decades."

"It's nice and quiet. _Sometimes_ we get our work done," Taeseob says, followed by a snicker.

"So what are you guys doing today besides painting nails and solving puzzles on a cube?" San asks. Yoonmi motions for him to have a seat next to her, which he takes.

"We're researching how to summon a demon," Minnie states, monotone. Still, she doesn't look up.

Well, San certainly wasn't expecting that answer. "You're what?"

"Yeah! We figured we'd give it a try," Yoonmi says bubbly. San raises an eyebrow at her and her beige sweater and bootcut jeans, wondering just how someone so wholesome-looking would be interested in summoning a demon. "Jinho's looking at websites now, though he's been at it for a while."

"You come across some pretty interesting stuff the more pages into Google you get," Jinho comments. "Here, check this out."

San glances over to see a nearly black screen with just a few barely legible characters in red. Something about demon summoning, whatever. There's a pentagram at the top. San scoffs in amusement as Jinho takes his phone back. He has no use for the information anyway. "It gives detailed instructions on how to summon an _incubus._ "

It takes everything in San's power not to laugh. "Ooh, isn't that a sex demon?" Minnie coos, finally lifting her head.

"Mhm." Jinho winks in Minnie's direction. "Maybe we can get you some dick, finally."

"I'd rather not _die_ , you know. Incubi tend to kill their victims. I'd love to have a conversation with one, though."

"I don't think demons are very talkative," Yoonmi says. "They tend to possess people and make them go crazy. Or torture people from the outside. That's why if we're gonna summon a demon, we need to summon one _safely_ , so Jinho, please try to find a reliable source."

Jinho scoffs as his thumb moves across his screen. "Don't know how 'reliable' the internet can be when it comes to summoning demons, but go off. There was something really weird I found earlier though, on like, the two hundredth page of Google."

Turning her attention back to her nails, Minnie asks a very uninterested, "What?"

A few more taps of his screen later, Jinho hands his phone to Minnie. "A completely unnamed online journal written in an unheard of language. Like, the URL is real sketchy and the only readable text is 'demons' at the top, but even that word is followed by the weird language."

Minnie's brows furrow as she scrolls through the page. "I've literally never seen anything like this. It must be a dead language or something. I've seen plenty of languages written out but nothing like this." She hands the phone off to Yoonmi, and Taeseob glances over her shoulder as the two read it together.

"It's a bunch of weird symbols, that's all I can gather," Taeseob says with a shrug, quickly turning back to his cube.

"Do you wanna see?" Yoonmi asks San. Not expecting to gain anything from it, San takes the phone and reads the screen.

Certainly enough, the word 'demons' is perfectly written across the top, but San doesn't understand what they mean by 'weird symbols.' He can read it perfectly fine.

What it really reads at the top is _'demons, my comrades.'_

"It's nonsense, isn't it, San?" Yoonmi asks him.

It's not. Even as San scrolls further down the page, he can read and understand every single word. "I mean, feel free to try and read it," Jinho says. "I've been on my phone for hours. Maybe I'll actually start doing homework."

As the humans settle into doing whatever they're doing, San reads forward, feeling as if the world around him is drowning as the words on the screen seem to manifest in front of him, echoing in his head.

A voice, neither male nor female, rings around him.

_'Demons, my comrades, if you can understand this text, that means you are one of my kind.'_

The world seems to stop turning in that moment. When San glances up, it's as if the humans have frozen in place.

_'I am an unnamed creature, what humans have begun to call demons. I write this text for those of my kind, those who are lost, who seek guidance and answers from one of their own. I am one of the First Ones, a demon who has existed since the beginning of time. To the demon reading this text, you are not alone.'_

_'I am a demon who lurks among the shadows but traverses the Earth plane as well. Because I have existed for a long time, having adapted to human changes in society and technology, I write this to you, a text that only demons can read.'_

_'Those that can only travel through shadows are called Shadow Walkers, and those that cannot conceal themselves from human sight are called Earth Walkers. I am what is called a Plane Walker, a demon who can conceal itself from human sight or show itself if it desires. To the demon reading this text, you must be either a Plane or an Earth Walker.'_

_'I was born with a mere fraction of knowledge regarding my kind, tasked with the purpose of spreading the knowledge I was given. To the demon reading this text, some of your answers may lie here.'_

Answers.

Something vibrates in San's body.

_'This is how a demon is born.'_

_'Shadow Walkers are created from negative human energy, such as strong feelings of hatred, jealousy, anger, or despair. The energy is transformed into an evil being, invisible to the human eye, that crawls in the shadows, and it will continue to feed off of the energy it was created from. However, a demon will only form if there are a multitude of these feelings put together, and only if it is in abundance.'_

_'The two other types of demons, Plane and Earth Walkers, are born from human souls.'_

San feels a thud in his chest.

_'Reapers are demons born into existence from nothing. They are simply tasked with collecting human souls once the body dies. They are classified as Plane Walkers, because they may walk hidden from human sight, but may also present themselves if they so desire.'_

_'With reapers as exceptions, both types are born from a human soul that died in suffering. There are several instances that must occur in order for the soul to be reborn as a demon.'_

_'For both Plane and Earth Walkers, if the human dies with an illimitable amount of anger or vengeance and the soul is **not reaped** , there is a chance it may be reborn as a demon. The location in which the demon is born will be random, and could be anywhere on the Earth Plane, though it is guaranteed to be separated from human civilization.'_

_'Earth Walkers are the rarest type of demon. The requisites for the rebirth of an Earth Walker are nearly identical to those of a Plane Walker with one exception: **Earth Walkers are born with a sense of self-ruling. They are born from hatred, vengeance, and a sense of justice. They walk the human world with no way of concealing themselves because they are meant to exist among humans and purge the human world of the very circumstances from which they were born.** '_

Something screams.

_'On extremely rare occasions, Plane and Earth Walkers may be born from an excessive amount of other emotions that are not necessarily negative, such as love, yearning, or an unyielding desire to live.'_

_'Plane and Earth Walkers are born from humans who die in suffering, almost exclusively victims of **murder** with very few exceptions. The difference between Plane and Earth Walkers, other than the planes they may travel on, is that Plane Walkers solely feed on the same negative energy that creates Shadow Walkers, while Earth Walkers feed on human life energy, which may be achieved in a multitude of ways, including the human's release of sexual energy, bodily fluids, or human organs and body parts.'_

_'For both Plane and Earth Walkers, their main source of energy comes from an aspect_ ** _linked to their deaths as humans_**. _For example, if a human dies from a murder involving envy and is reborn a Plane Walker, then the demon may gain an increased amount of energy by absorbing that same negative emotion, while still being able to feed on others. If a human dies from a murder involving hatred and is reborn as an Earth Walker, then that demon will be inclined to feed off of the same types of people that committed the murder.'_

_'The demons born from humans may or may not look like the humans they were born from. Some may take on an entirely new appearance. The demon will be born with no memories of their past life, nor will any of their memories return.'_

_'The reincarnation of humans into demons is a relatively rare occurrence, with only several hundred cases worldwide at a time. Demons who do not feed will perish and cease to exist. The human souls from which they were born will remain unreaped, and will disappear from the universe completely. There is no other way for a demon to perish, as they are unaffected by human weaponry, immortal, and cannot age. Their anatomy is similar to that of a human's, but their hearts do not beat, and their lungs do not need to breathe.'_

_'Sometimes, Plane and Earth Walkers will eventually stop feeding, effectively committing suicide, to end their existences. However, demons are welcome to roam the Earth for as long as they desire.'_

_'The attributes of a demon are very circumstantial yet unique. There are no set guidelines, boundaries, or limits to how a demon may present themselves in terms of personality. Demons who are born from humans will have similar personality traits as their human forms once did, but other aspects, such as what their main source of energy is, may depend on the circumstances surrounding their deaths.'_

_'However, with an ever-changing world of both humans and demons, some exceptions may arise that I, one of the first demons to exist, do not know of.'_

_'To the demon who understands this text, I hope this knowledge aids you in some way.'_

_'Demons, my comrades, may our existences be forever.'_

\---

"San."

San is standing on the roof to his condominium complex, having flown up after reading the ancient text in a blind fury. Dazing the group of humans, he had Jinho send screenshots to his own phone, which he keeps clasped in his shaking hand, and promptly left the university campus. He'd texted Wooyoung an apology, saying that Seonghwa wanted to see him for something, when in actuality, it's the other way around.

As soon as the reaper appears, San practically shoves his phone into Seonghwa's hands. "Read this."

Seonghwa frowns dubiously before turning his attention to the text. "'Demons, my comrades...' San, what is this?"

"Just read it."

As Seonghwa's eyes skim the phone, San can see the visible change in Seonghwa's demeanor. His shoulders slump, his head raising with rapt attention, brows furrowing as he reads further. He reads none of it aloud, but he doesn't have to. If he's experiencing the same thing San had experienced, then there's no way he can speak.

Time had frozen while San read the text.

"San." Seonghwa nearly gasps after several minutes of reading. "This is... what is this? Where did you find this?"

"A group of Wooyoung's friends found it on the internet; can you believe it?" San scoffs and takes his phone back, locking it and shoving it back into his pocket. "I guess whatever demon wrote that figured they'd be helping us out. It was buried in the Google searches."

Seonghwa hums. "Judging from that text, I am what is called a 'Plane Walker,' and you are an 'Earth Walker.'"

"Yup. Seems like it."

"And it appears as if Yeosang's theory is correct. I wonder if he has ever come across this exact text."

"Well, whatever the case, this is it. This is my answer." The phone feels like a heavy weight in his pocket.

He doesn't know how to feel, _if_ he should be feeling anything. There's definitely something uneasy floating around him, his head now swirling with _answers._ At the same time, however, it's as if nothing has changed. Despite knowing what he is, an 'Earth Walker,' nothing has changed.

He knows what he is, he knows how he was born. Even though he may not know exactly _what_ he died from, he now knows that the circumstances surrounding his death were responsible for the demon he became, an _incubus._

A sex demon. Because the circumstances surrounding his death must have involved sex in some way.

That, combined with his sense of vengeance and preference for the hearts of murderers and rapists... well, it all makes sense now.

"It is oddly comforting, to me, at least," Seonghwa says. "Now I know that I was born from nothing, not that I was truly wondering where I came from in the first place. But as for you, San... how does this make you feel?"

San shrugs. "I don't know. I mean, sure, it's a weird sense of comfort now that I know _how_ I came to be, but it's not like it changes anything. I'm still a demon, and I'm not searching for answers as to who I was when I was human or how I was killed. But at least I know now that I really _was_ human."

It really doesn't change anything.

But there's some sort of foreboding, _something_ looming over San's head, and if his heart could beat, it would be pounding. If he needed to breathe, he would be heaving. The feeling is so heavy, crushing, even. It pricks his skin. It clasps around his throat.

"But there is something else that is bothering you," Seonghwa says.

Seonghwa doesn't even need to read his mind. "In a way, I think I share the same thought as you. You feel as if something is going to happen, do you not?"

San sucks in bottom lip and bites down _hard._ He feels nothing, as a demon does. "I can't help but think something bad is going to happen. I don't know if that's some sort of demon foreboding instinct or what, but... with what you showed me the other day, that victim..."

There's a long moment of silence between the two demons. The early autumn breeze musses their hair. Somewhere in the distance, the cawing of birds can be heard.

"I reaped that victim's soul. They will not be born again as a demon," Seonghwa says.

"That's not it," San affirms.

It's not that. It's not the victim San is worried about.

_Wooyoung._

"San, are you worried about Wooyoung?"

Of course. Seonghwa doesn't need to read his mind. Either he's easy to read, or Seonghwa has impeccable intuition (or both).

"Well, yeah. I worry about him a lot."

_Worrying isn't enough._

The wind picks up. It feels like nothing against his skin.

"San, whatever happens, I am sure you are going to protect Wooyoung. He will be fine. What is there to worry about?"

"But you feel it though, don't you?" San asks, turning towards the reaper. "Something isn't right. I-I don't know what it is, if it has to do with Wooyoung, or... or if it's just me being in hysterics from reading that text, but there's just this gut feeling I have and—"

The cawing gets louder.

"We promised that we wouldn't leave each other," San mumbles.

Seonghwa lets out a sigh. "San..."

"I promised him that I wouldn't wipe his memory and that I wouldn't leave him. He promised me that he wouldn't leave me no matter how hard things get." He scoffs a laugh. "I'm losing it, Seonghwa. I'm really losing it, aren't I? Of all things, a _human_ is making me feel like this. Making me _worry._ Making me... _feel things_."

"' _However, with an ever-changing world of both humans and demons, some exceptions may arise that I, one of the first demons to exist, do not know of.'"_

San shakes his head, his tussled hair becoming even more disheveled. "I don't want to leave him, Seonghwa. And I don't want him to leave me."

"San, I do not think it is a matter of him leaving you, but a matter of you losing him."

A flock of birds approaches.

"From what I have observed, he has a strong resolve. He is a determined person, has a very resolute heart and soul. He is true to his word, that he will not leave you no matter what. But at the same time, San, as I have stated numerous times, he is human. He is not immortal like us. As strong as his soul may be, you may still lose him."

And San doesn't need to read his mind. He knows exactly what Seonghwa is talking about.

The flock flies over their heads.

"San," Seonghwa says, his tone weighted with concern.

San glances up. The cacophony of the birdsong has vanished. The flock is gone.

"Do you love him?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ooooooOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO heh
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/galaxysangs)


	9. novem

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw for a description of a dead body and mentions of murder, rape, and suicide. chapter also contains discussions about the anatomy of the female reproductive system because san doesn't know how they work
> 
> ...not to mention the sangina comes to life!! smut contains cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, and female ejaculation (squirting sorta?). sanjaculation. all while san is still san male form. he just has a vagina.

After Wooyoung had been to San's condo the first time (the very very first time when San and Seonghwa dragged him there sort of but not entirely against his will), he doesn't know why he didn't suggest to San that they spend time at his place rather than his own. After all, San "lives alone," and Wooyoung has two obnoxious roommates who are too nosy for their own good. Maybe it was because Wooyoung felt like he was imposing something on San, especially in the beginning, but now, spending time at San's condo is oddly relaxing. He's away from Yunho and Mingi and in the company of the demon who makes his heart beat faster.

San has no issue with letting him stay at his place either. There, Wooyoung gets homework done while San reads books. San still sits by the window whenever Wooyoung has work and waits for his shift to end while sipping a mug of dark roast coffee and gazing out the window. Wooyoung likes to steal glances at him. Sometimes, San is able to hear his thoughts at random times and intrude on his inner conversation with himself. It makes both of them laugh.

They sleep in the same bed. To make it fair, they will stay at Wooyoung's apartment _sometimes_ , and spend time with Yunho and Mingi playing Uno and talking about the school's latest gossip. There had been a night where Yunho brought up the 'Heart-Ripping Killer' and their latest victim, who still hasn't been identified even after a week, and said the same thing Yeoju did, being, "At least they're not in the area anymore."

At this point, Wooyoung doesn't even react to statements like that. To him, San has become nothing like what he first perceived him to be.

Yeah, he'd been slightly terrified by San in the beginning, especially that day where he was on the verge of being arrested. During the first few weeks of them hanging out, Wooyoung was always worried that San would get sick of him and drop him (maybe even kill him), but somehow, somewhere along the way, something changed in the demon, and Wooyoung was always confused as to _what_ exactly.

San had told him previously, a couple times, that he makes him feel human. In turn, Wooyoung said it back. Because even though he _is_ human, San treats him like one in a different sense. A sense that Wooyoung feels is much different than the way people have treated him in the past, apart from his roommates, Hongjoong, and Hongjoong's friends. His past lover, his past flings, none of them saw him like that.

Sometimes, Wooyoung feels like he might be hallucinating, making this shit up in his mind that maybe San has a _thing_ for him, but he snaps himself out of it and tells himself that San is a demon with no emotions. But at the same time, it doesn't even seem like San is using him in any sort of way. Not using him for sex, not using him to feed or whatever. It's confusing, being so intimate with San and not knowing just what the hell they actually are, but Wooyoung keeps it to himself.

He doesn't want to risk the demon leaving him, even though the two promised each other they wouldn't. After all, San has all the power in him to leave. Wooyoung does not. San can wipe his memory and control his actions if he wanted to. He constantly reminds himself that by default, he is at San's mercy. He is human, San is not. San has complete and utter control over him.

Which is why one night, while San is buried deep inside him and Wooyoung is sat in his lap, arms and legs locked around the demon's body as he rides him languidly, moans dripping from his mouth, he says, "I'm yours, San." He pulls his head away and presses his forehead against San's. "I'm all yours."

"What do you mean?" San asks in a whisper.

"I belong to you. Every part of me." Wooyoung rocks his hips, a whimper escaping him as he feels San shift inside him. It's hitting him so deep. There are small tears forming in his eyes. "My heart, my body, my soul. Everything belongs to you."

"Oh, Wooyoung." San takes Wooyoung by the back and leans forward, placing the human onto the bed with his strong arms still wrapped around him, still inside him, and Wooyoung lets out another moan. San silences him with a kiss.

_I don't have much. I don't have a beating heart, and I don't have a soul. But I'm yours just the same._

The tears fall with San's mouth on his.

\---

It's about a week and four days after the first news report that the victim's name is finally released. A twenty-four-year-old woman named Nam Soobin. Her photo is released, the non-mutilated version, and she's nothing short of beautiful. Wooyoung, San, Yunho, and Mingi are all gathered on the sofa as they watch the news report, which still doesn't give specific details surrounding her death except that the murder was probably done with something much, much bigger than a knife.

Wooyoung still hasn't seen the photo San had referenced before, but from the way San described it, he's inclined to believe the news report.

"I'm sure there'll be more details on the internet," Yunho says, already pulling his laptop out from his bag. "Don't know if there will be photos, but I'm sure there will be more details as to what authorities think happened."

Yunho searches the woman's name, and certainly enough, several articles from different news sites and publishers pop up. He clicks on the first result, which is an online newspaper rather than a news station's site, and reads aloud. The article states the woman's location of death, being in a deserted parking garage. Though there are no pictures, the article does go into detail about what her body looked like.

"Her body appeared as if it had been ripped down the middle. Her face and skull had been bashed in, and her scalp appeared to have been sliced and peeled off, leaving no recognizable features. Though her clothes had been disposed of, a small piece of her torn clothing remained on the scene, possibly due to the killer's error. Although her body had been torn open, one organ was visibly absent: her heart. Above her body were the words 'from the Heart-Ripping killer' written in her blood."

Wooyoung glances over at San, who's staring at the article intently. Yunho continues, "There had been no traces of DNA left that would point towards a culprit, as the words on the wall seemed to have been written with a foreign object rather than a finger, and there were no fingerprints or traces of hair. It is believed that there were multiple weapons involved, as one had been used to bash the victim's skull in, and another used to butcher the body. There may have been other weapons used as well."

"I'm guessing the wounds were too... huge to really figure out what the murder weapons were," Mingi mutters.

The news article, coming from an online journal rather than a news station, seems to be more opinionated about the matter, as Yunho reads the final portions of the article. "Although the heart was missing and the words of the so-called 'Heart-Ripping Killer' were printed on the wall, this particular instance is inconsistent with the serial killer's previous murders. Prior to this murder, the Heart-Ripping Killer did not leave their victim's bodies defaced, butchered, and unrecognizable. In addition, the vast majority of the Heart-Ripping Killer's victims have been male, with only a few recorded female victims. It is being speculated that this particular crime was not carried out by the Heart-Ripping Killer, but by somebody else, though nothing is set in stone."

There are a few moments of silence that sit between the four of them, but Wooyoung knows exactly what San is thinking. This is it. That's exactly the case, because San, the true Heart-Ripping Killer, has been by his side all along. "I mean, it kinda makes sense," Mingi finally says, breaking the silence. "Don't serial killers usually stick to their way of killing? Like, sure, there could be slip-ups or they might think, 'hey, let's switch things up a bit,' but the Heart-Ripping Killer hasn't exactly strayed from their usual ways of killing."

"I think there were a few instances in the past where the Heart-Ripping Killer left other organs out and little notes, but nothing like what this article described. And from what I remember, cases like that didn't happen often," Yunho offers, scrolling through the remainder of the page, which are mostly opinions and comments.

"You know, I just remembered... what happened with Jaewon? Like, obviously he's still sitting in prison, but did they ever figure out who attacked him? Was it the Heart-Ripping Killer or not?" Mingi brings up.

Yunho shrugs. "Not gonna lie, I almost forgot about him. I guess that's what happens when a murderer and rapist dies or is gone for so long. They're forgotten by everybody but their victims."

"That's kinda shitty, in a way. Like, people should remember him and his crimes. Make _him_ remember what he is and all the terrible things he's done."

"Well, maybe 'forget about him' is the wrong phrase. I guess... after all this time, even after finding out about what he did, I just stopped caring about _him_ , not about the things he's done or the people he's hurt. Because really, he deserves to rot in prison. I couldn't give less of a shit about him."

Wooyoung agrees. He looks over at San again, who's eyes are still fixed on Yunho's laptop screen. He seems much more perturbed than usual (and he's usually not perturbed at all), seemingly lost in thought as Yunho and Mingi discuss all sorts of possibilities that he ends up drowning out. He stares at San, who doesn't even spare a glance.

"What do you think, Wooyoung-ah?" Yunho asks suddenly, snapping him out of it.

"Oh, about the Heart-Ripping Killer?"

Yunho eyes him suspiciously, but urges him to answer anyway. "Yeah, do you think it was them who killed Soobin?"

"No," Wooyoung answers almost instantly, and that's what makes San look at him. "It doesn't seem right. The Heart-Ripping Killer doesn't kill like _that_."

"I agree," Mingi says. "The Heart-Ripping Killer is like, an anti-hero. If Soobin was an innocent woman, which she probably was, then the Heart-Ripping Killer wouldn't have attacked her, right? Plus, that article raised some good points. This murder was inconsistent with the rest of the killer's murders."

"I mean, of course there could be exceptions, but up until now, none of the killer's victims were attacked _this_ brutally," Yunho says.

To Wooyoung's surprise, it's San who speaks next. "Whoever killed Soobin probably wants to be like the Heart-Ripping Killer," he says, monotone. "A copycat crime. That, or this killer is trying to frame the Heart-Ripping Killer." Even though San can never be found out and Yunho and Mingi are too clueless to even suspect anything of San, what San is saying rings true, though he's not sure about the latter part. Frame the Heart-Ripping Killer? How?

Yunho lets out a deep whistle-like sigh. "That first possibility sounds quite plausible, actually." Mingi nods in agreement. "Damn, now we have _two_ killers running around the country."

"That's unsettling, definitely, but at least this murder was several hours away from us. If it wasn't the Heart-Ripping Killer who did this, then at least we're safe from them," Mingi says.

"Not necessarily," Yunho says lowly, finally shutting his laptop. "If it wasn't the Heart-Ripping Killer, then what about the real one? Where did they go? They haven't killed in a while, that is, _if_ this recent murder wasn't actually them. For all we know, the Heart-Ripping Killer could still be in the area, just lying low."

_Or he's, y'know, sitting on our living room sofa._

San snorts. "What's so funny?" Yunho asks, albeit not accusatory.

"Oh, nothing," San says dismissively.

Yunho and Mingi pay no more attention.

While his roommates resume their usual nightly activities (binge watching horrible movies on Netflix while wrist-deep in a bowl of popcorn), Wooyoung gets started on his homework with San leisurely laying on his bed, scrolling through something on his phone. Whatever he's looking at, he's extremely fixed on it, focused and solemn. Though Wooyoung wants to ask what has him so intrigued, he ignores the urge and instead continues writing his essay outline for lit.

"Wooyoung," San says out of the blue. "You're... bisexual, right?"

"Um... yeah, why?" Wooyoung asks, swiveling his chair around to look at San.

"So that means you like men and women, right?"

Wooyoung hesitates before answering, "Yes." He doesn't ask why, just waits for San's next question.

"Have you had sex with a woman?"

Wooyoung almost laughs. "Yeah, I have. I've had sex with both men and women."

San nods as if taking Wooyoung's statements into consideration. "What's it like?"

"San, why are you asking me all of this?" Wooyoung asks with a playful smile. "What, are you planning on going out and having sex with other people all of a sudden?"

"W-Well, no," San says, appearing flustered. "It's just... I mean, I've never had my dick in a vagina, but I have had a dick inside _my_ vagina."

Oh, right. Wooyoung almost forgot about that. San has a succubus form. "So, um, I guess I'm wondering if sex with a man is similar to having sex with a woman. And not necessarily penetrative, you know? Like... any sex."

"Oh, gotcha." Wooyoung puts his pencil down and stands up, his lit essay at the back of his mind. "Well, um, it's _different_ in that one genitalia a dangling appendage, and the other is a relatively flat hole with a very important nub at the top. You at least know the parts of the vulva, right?"

"Vulva?"

Wooyoung bursts out laughing then, so hard that tears nearly form at his eyes. "Jesus, San, you have the ability to switch between both male _and_ female genitalia and you don't know the anatomy of the female genitalia?"

"Look, I don't know! I just use my succubus form to lure people in, that's all. I walk around like _this_ , in my default form, and I have a _dick._ T-Though I don't really know the inner anatomy of a penis either."

Wooyoung lets out a long, deep sigh and retrieves his laptop from the desk, sitting himself down next to San and searching up 'female reproductive system' on Google. The sex education in high school wasn't very good, and Wooyoung knew that. Though Wooyoung didn't lose his virginity until his first year of university, he still took the time to learn about sex on his own, mostly reading online textbooks and watching educational videos that taught him about both reproductive systems in a non-pornographic way.

"The vagina is actually the canal into the uterus, though people seem to think it's synonymous with everything going on down there," Wooyoung says, pointing at the internal diagram of the female reproductive system. "However, the entire outer part of the female reproductive system, what we can see down there, is called the vulva. The vaginal opening, labia, and clitoris all make up the vulva."

"Oh, I know about the clit. That's the important part," San says confidently.

"Yeah, when it comes to pleasure. When it comes to reproduction, however, everything else is important. I'm not going to go into baby-making since you probably can't reproduce, nor do you plan on it... right?"

San chuckles. "I've only been having sex with you. Plus, I don't think a demon can get pregnant or impregnate someone."

"Have you _seen_ the movies? Women give birth to the Antichrist all the time in those!" Wooyoung jokes, laughing at himself.

"Well, I'm not pregnant, am I?"

Wooyoung instantly silences himself. "Ahem, well, back to the female anatomy."

He points at every part of the diagram and explains the functions of them while San watches the screen attentively. While he doesn't go into full detail about the sperm and the egg and how that whole reproduction process happens, he does tell San about the functions of each part, though most of that is just regurgitating the information he's reading off of Wikipedia. San reads the words that Wooyoung speaks aloud with a smirk on his face.

"I wonder if I have all that shit inside me when I'm in my female form," San says. "I mean, all of it's virtually useless since I don't reproduce."

"So... you're saying that you might just have the vulva and vagina and that's it?"

San shrugs. "A possibility. It's not like I'm gonna go to a hospital and have it checked out anyway."

 _Touché_ , Wooyoung thinks. _Touché._

"So all the anatomy aside," San continues, "what does sex with a woman feel like versus sex with a man?"

Wooyoung hums, pondering the question. "Um... I mean, both are pretty damn good. Warm and tight, though I've found assholes are generally tighter, since the tightness of vaginas can vary. As for other things, like oral, _that_ part's different."

"Go on."

"Well, obviously you've had your dick sucked so you know what that's like," Wooyoung says. "Have you had your pussy eaten?"

And _god_ , that feels so odd to ask to a genital-swapping demon who Wooyoung has only ever known to have a dick. San's face scrunches up at the question. "Is that what it's called? You don't literally eat it, right?"

"No, you don't literally eat it." Wooyoung bursts out laughing again. It's frustratingly hilarious, how little San knows about sex, especially as or with a female. "It's like... what we've done to each other before. We've eaten each other out. Ahem, we've licked each other's assholes."

"Ah."

"So yes, it goes both ways," Wooyoung says. "Eating pussy. Eating ass. Neither of which involves actual eating."

"Okay."

Wooyoung takes a few breaths before continuing. "It's quite different. The clit is an essential part of doing anything pleasure-wise with a woman. So, when you eat pussy, it's important to lick the clit, among other things. Like, switch things up, lick the folds and all, but focus on the clit. The clit. Focus. On. The clit."

"The clit."

"Yes, the clit."

"Duly noted."

It's so weird, saying these things out loud to a sex demon. Wooyoung would've thought this sort of thing is instinctual to a being that's _supposed_ to have sex, with a penis or a vagina. At several points, he has to stop himself from laughing like a goddamn teenager, but he's never had to explain this to another person (or demon, in this case). Saying things like, "when I say folds, I mean the labia," and "the g-spot is basically the inward extension of the clitoris, so when you finger a woman, aim upwards," as well as "the male equivalent of a g-spot is called a prostate, like, remember whenever I say 'right there' when we fuck, that's what I'm referring to."

"I think I have that," San says. "The times you've fucked me, I think you were hitting that spot."

"Good to know you at least have all the pleasure spots."

"Is there anything else I should know?"

All female reproductive system'd out, Wooyoung shuts his laptop and brings it back to his desk. His literature essay can wait. He throws himself onto the bed, on top of San, and smiles like a child in wonder, kissing the tip of San's nose. "I think you're fine for now," he laughs. "Besides, it's not like you're planning on having sex with a woman anytime soon, right?"

_Please say no._

"Of course not. Why would I have sex with anybody else when I have you?"

And fuck, if that doesn't make Wooyoung's insides twist a bit, he doesn't know what does.

\---

Wooyoung's on a roof with San when he encounters Seonghwa for the first time in a while. It's an abandoned building, so the roof is pretty dilapidated but at least Wooyoung has his hoodie to sit on (San doesn't give a shit; he probably has two hundred pairs of those same black skinny slacks, that unfairly rich bastard), and the last thing he's expecting while resting his head on San's shoulder while watching the sunset is to hear that rich, deep-toned voice.

"San, Wooyoung."

"Jesus!" Wooyoung exclaims, head immediately perking up and knocking San in the jaw. "Shit, sorry."

San, unfazed, turns towards Seonghwa without standing. "Seonghwa, what's up?"

"Plenty of things are 'up,' San." San rolls his eyes at Seonghwa's attempt to be facetious. "I am here to discuss another matter with you, and I brought Yeosang."

Yeosang?

"Who's that?" Wooyoung asks, standing as San does. San's eyes aren't on Seonghwa, but right _next_ to Seonghwa.

"Yeosang is another demon," San says, eyes remaining on that one spot. "He's not showing himself to you, apparently, but I can see him."

"Um... okay. Hi, Yeosang." Wooyoung gets no response.

"He says that it's nothing personal against you; he just really doesn't want to be seen by humans," San explains, and Wooyoung nods. "So anyway, whatever you came to discuss, you can discuss while Wooyoung is here."

Seonghwa pulls out his phone (whoa, who knew such an ancient demon has the most recent iPhone model? Wooyoung's stuck with his shitty iPhone 5), and Wooyoung can see the immediate drop in San's facial expression. "Wooyoung knows about the last victim, correct? Her name was released a few days ago. Nam Soobin."

"Yeah, I know," Wooyoung says, trying not to sound condescending, but he can answer for himself.

Seonghwa nods nonchalantly. "I reaped her soul, so there is no chance of her becoming a demon."

Wooyoung frowns, confused. "What are you talking about?"

Seonghwa, now perturbed, frowns as well. "Did San not tell you?"

"Tell me what?" He looks over at San, whose lips are pressed together. "What happened?"

"Nothing _happened_ , not really," San says, then he chuckles. "Basically, I found out the truth about how demons are born. Turns out, I really used to be a human. Still don't know how I died or anything about that, but..." Another chuckle. "It was actually your friends. Hongjoong's friends. They were looking up how to summon a demon, and Jinho found a text hidden in the deepest pages of Google that only demons can understand. How ironic is that?"

As amused as San sounds, Wooyoung can hear a bitter edge to his voice. San isn't even looking at him. "So yes, I am a demon born from a human. And as it turns out, _how_ a demon is born and what they feed off of really does coincide with their death as a human. Meaning, because I feed on the hearts of murderers and rapists, I was probably raped and killed as a human."

Wooyoung remembers how San spoke about the same topic as speculation, but now that it's posed as a truth, the same feeling rises up, the unease, the nausea, all at the mere thought that San, now a demon, had such awful things happen to him as a human. It's tenfold now, to the point where Wooyoung's vision becomes blurry at the edges and he can feel his body swaying before there's an arm secured around his waist. "Wooyoung, it's okay."

San had said that before, and Wooyoung argued that it wasn't okay. It still isn't. But now, Wooyoung is in the presence of not two, but _three_ demons, even though one is invisible. He can't be starting an argument about morals and humanity now. It's all a lot to let sink in, especially since San hadn't said a single word to him about this. It makes him wonder just _when_ he found out and why he didn't say anything.

"But all that aside," San says, "what did you want to see me for, and why bring Yeosang?"

"I showed Yeosang the text, so now he knows that he is a Plane Walker. There is actually no specific reason why I brought Yeosang along with me. He just happened to be around."

San narrows his eyes.

"But the real reason I wanted to see you was this." Seonghwa looks at Wooyoung, his dark eyes intense enough that Wooyoung feels inclined to look away, and as if the reaper could read his mind, he says, "Wooyoung, look away for a moment, please." Seonghwa doesn't even have to trance him to make him do so.

Seonghwa presumably shows something on his phone to San. "Fucking hell," the incubus grumbles. "Again?"

"It was closer this time, about three hours away by vehicle," Seonghwa says, and _oh_ , that's what they're talking about.

The fake 'Heart-Ripping Killer.'

"I reaped their soul as well," Seonghwa continues. "It was a similar situation to that of the first. I could feel that a soul _needed_ to be reaped, so I projected myself to the location, and I was met with _this._ Another mutilated body."

Wooyoung bites his lip and shuts his eyes. He'd been curious all along about what the body of Nam Soobin looked like, but now that there's another one, he's not sure if he wants to see anymore. The descriptions are enough. "The only visible difference between the last murder and this one is that the killer left the victim's clothing. It appears to be female, but the body is butchered just the same."

God, Wooyoung wants to throw up.

"And another thing. Unlike last time, where the victim was killed where her body was found, it seems as if this victim died beforehand, and her body was dumped in a pile of flesh in an alleyway."

"You can tell that?" San asks.

"Her heart was missing, of course. But if you look closely, you can see how her organs seem to be misplaced as they are spilling out." Wooyoung has to hold in a gag. "Her body seems a bit more... split, as well. My belief is that the killer mutilated her like this beforehand, then transported her body to this location. It was a very secluded area, like the alleyway we saved Wooyoung in." The reaper looks at him.

"So... what does this mean for us?" San asks.

"For you, San, it means that there is another evil person out there whose heart you might just have to eat, and they seem to be getting closer. I do not know if they will pass through here, but—"

"You have to eat their heart, San," Wooyoung interjects, finally looking at San. The incubus returns his stare. "Please, I don't want another person to die like this!"

Seonghwa lets out a heavy sigh. "Moreover, this person is not like you, San. This person kills without remorse, but the difference between you and them is that you do not kill innocent people. With this killer, however, that means that _everybody_ is at risk." He looks over at Wooyoung.

"They're not going to get to Wooyoung," San says firmly. "I'm not gonna allow it. They're not getting to Wooyoung or any of his friends."

"San—" Wooyoung starts.

"They're _not_ ," San states again, hand tightening around Wooyoung's waist.

"As I have told you before, San, I believe you will make the right choices, and I believe Wooyoung is in good hands. But who knows when this killer will kill next? And where? San, you must keep an eye and ear out for this person. I cannot stress that enough. If you want to protect Wooyoung and his friends..." He halts there.

"I promised Wooyoung I wouldn't leave him," San says. "And now, I have every reason not to."

Wooyoung looks at San, whose face spells nothing but determination as he stares Seonghwa down. Even though Seonghwa is on their side, the way San is staring at him, eyes blazing, is overwhelmingly intimidating, even from where Wooyoung is standing. Looks like that could very well kill.

"Then do as you promised," Seonghwa says, returning a gaze equally frightening. "Protect him, San."

There's a certain cadence to his voice that Wooyoung picks up on. First, he never expected to hear that from Seonghwa of all people (or demons). Second, he'd sounded so serious about it too, like there's a reason why he's so set on San protecting him. He can feel San's fingers grip his waist even harder.

Wooyoung's heart is beating so hard, his chest feels like it's being crushed. But San is there, with his hand anchored on his waist, and he's so, so _nervous_ , but he's never felt so safe.

So is being under the protection of a demon, he supposes.

\---

It's when the two of them are lying on San's bed that night, Wooyoung's nose buried in his textbook and San's eyes on his phone screen, that the human decides to bring up the elephant in the room.

"Why didn't you tell me about that text you found?" he asks. "And you said Hongjoong's friends found it?"

San drops his phone next to him. "Yes. While you were in class, I decided to go to the library and I found your friends in one of the lesser occupied sections. They said they were searching up how to summon a demon, which is absolutely ludicrous in and of itself, and Jinho showed me an online text he found that only demons can read. They saw it as nothing but symbols. Meanwhile, I could read every word, every character, and I swear, I even heard a voice in my head reading it aloud."

"So... it said that demons can really be born from humans?"

San sighs, picking his phone back up and tapping away at it. "Here," he says, handing it to Wooyoung. "What does this look like to you?"

Wooyoung stares at the screen, which is mostly just black with the exception of a bunch of unintelligible symbols in red. If it's a foreign language, he hasn't seen anything like it. "Just a bunch of symbols," he answers honestly.

"Then allow me to read it to you."

So he does. San reads on about a fraction of demon lore, something about an ancient demon and its task of spreading its knowledge, being about the birth of demons. Wooyoung listens to every word, every inflection of San's voice, and he notices the way San's voice darkens at the part about 'Earth-Walkers.' When he reads it aloud, Wooyoung's skin shivers, goosebumps surface, and he swears the room gets colder.

But to think, the San that Wooyoung knows now, having been raped and killed as a human? Now, the notion isn't just a notion. It's a fact, proven by this ancient text that only demons like San can understand. San really _was_ human. He was murdered, probably raped, and now he is doomed to an eternal existence filled with a whole lot of nothing.

"Fuck," Wooyoung breathes out, his voice small. "Fuck... San, I... I don't know what to say."

San sighs, tossing his phone back on the bed. "You don't have to say anything. It's just like I said before. I'm not going to try to find out who I used to be or how I was killed. I'm a demon, and there's no changing that."

"You _did_ read that part about how Plane and Earth Walkers will stop feeding just so they can commit suicide, right?" Wooyoung asks. "San, I don't... I don't want you to do that. You're going to outlive me. You're just gonna... get bored of me. In a few years, you're just gonna wipe my memory and move on with your existence because why the hell would you stick around with some lousy human—"

"Wooyoung, stop."

San doesn't even have to look at him. His voice is enough to shut him up. Even with his rough voice, San crawls over to Wooyoung's side as the human throws his textbook to the ground and buries his face in his hands. "I can't imagine what it would be like," Wooyoung sniffles, "for you to just... disappear."

"I'm not going to," San says, placing a hand on Wooyoung's shoulder and leaning in. "I'm not leaving you."

"Well, you're going to have to eventually," Wooyoung says, and that's when he realizes that that truly is the reality.

San is immortal. San will live forever with the appearance of a twenty-something-year-old, because demons don't age. They don't just _die._ Wooyoung, on the other hand, is a living, breathing human, who will bleed from a mere paper cut, who feels emotions and pain, who will eventually _die_ and not become a demon. Not like San.

Wooyoung can't have San forever and vice versa.

He scoffs, shaking his head as he feels tears begin to form again. "It was selfish of me to make you promise that," he says. "It was selfish of me to ask you to hang out with me in the first place. I mean, who would've guessed I would get attached to a demon—"

Fuck.

"Shit, I mean—"

San's hand squeezes his shoulder as he shifts even closer to the human, his hip and thigh pressed against Wooyoung's. "And who would've guessed I, a demon who isn't supposed to feel emotions, would get attached to a human?"

Wooyoung inhales sharply, the breath feeling both refreshing and painful as he turns towards San. _He's attached_? The demon leans in, forehead pressing against his, something that Wooyoung has found San likes to do a lot, but he likes it a lot too. It makes him feel closer to San somehow. "I've told you this so many times, Wooyoung. You make me _feel_ things. You _do_ things to me."

"Thought that was just during sex."

"No, it's... it's more than that," San murmurs. "I've said it before, you make me feel human, but you make me feel human in _every_ way. I need to breathe whenever we lie together. I feel like I have a beating heart during that time too. I feel _warm_ , too. But even when we're not having sex..."

He trails off, his breath neutral on Wooyoung's face. His hand lands on Wooyoung's, taking his fingers in his. "Even when we're not having sex, I find myself thinking about you. Wanting to be around you. And now, I want to protect you."

Wooyoung swallows hard, eyes screwed shut, because he knows that if he looks into San's eyes, he will break. He will completely shatter, give the rest of his humanity to San, and San wouldn't even need to trance him to do so.

He swallows the words he wants to say so bad. He shoves them into the depths of his brain so San can't reach them.

And before Wooyoung knows it, San is climbing atop his lap, straddling him, and hooking his arms around Wooyoung's neck. With their foreheads still touching, lips barely brushing, San says, "I give myself to you. I belong to you."

Wooyoung lets both of their bodies fall as San kisses him. The demon is already breathing, heating up, as Wooyoung can feel the warmth under his fingers on San's waist. They kiss as if they will never kiss again, rushed but still passionate. And yes, there will come a time where their kisses will reach and end, but until then, Wooyoung will savor every goddamn moment he has with San, _any_ moment, whether it be in bed or at a fancy steak restaurant or a cute little ice cream shop.

He will make his limited time with San worth it.

And now, San, the heart-eating demon, has declared that he belongs to him as well.

"San," Wooyoung gasps as the demon sits both of them up to remove their shirts. "San, San."

The name feels like saccharine poison on his tongue. There might be a day where he will never speak it again. He will savor it.

"I'm here, Wooyoung," San says, legs spread on one of Wooyoung's thighs. The human's legs are still dangling off the bed as San grinds down on his thigh, soft moans breaking past his lips as he does. "I'm here. I'm not going to leave you." He's breathing into Wooyoung's neck, kissing the sensitive skin.

Wooyoung doesn't have the mental capacity to refute it. No, he wants San to stay. He will believe it. He will believe every word San tells him because he belongs to him.

He wants to say it so badly.

San whines as he grinds down even harder onto Wooyoung's clothed thigh. "Off," Wooyoung says, referring to both San and their clothes.

After discarding both pairs of jeans, Wooyoung is too lost in San, too focused on the way the demon is grinding on him to notice that there's no bulge sticking out of his underwear, nothing sticking out at all as San continues to rub himself against his thigh, until he feels something wet. "San," he says, opening his eyes without even realizing he'd closed them. "San, wait—"

San just giggles, rolling off of him and settling himself down on the assortment of pillows against the headboard. And sure enough, when Wooyoung turns around and looks at San's crotch, there really isn't anything protruding against the fabric of his underwear. "San, are you... is that what I think it is?"

"Why don't you find out?" San asks with a wink and a devilish smirk.

"Fucking Christ." Wooyoung practically clambers over to San, who's still grinning as the human hovers above him. Even though Wooyoung has a pretty good feeling about what's going on down there, he still can't help but take the time to really _look_ at San and all of his ethereal, demonic beauty.

Even though San lacks a beating heart, he seems to glow beneath Wooyoung's touches.

He wants to say it so badly.

He leans in, catching San's lips in another kiss. San's hands instantly come up to grab onto Wooyoung's hair as the human's kisses get lower and lower, the crook of his neck to the dips of his collarbones, the hills and valleys of his torso, until Wooyoung comes to a stop right below his navel.

There is no bulge.

Biting the inside of his bottom lip, Wooyoung hooks his fingers under the waistband of San's underwear and pulls it down, revealing absolutely no penis, but a V-shaped space that shields everything from view, that is, until San spreads his legs.

There, San is sporting a glistening pink vulva.

"Holy shit."

San giggles again. "You like?"

"I... really wasn't expecting that, if I'm being honest."

"If you'd like, I can bring back my dick—"

"N-No, it's fine," Wooyoung reassures, eyes trained on San's newfound genitalia. "I just really... wasn't expecting this. A-And you're still technically in your incubus form, right?"

San shrugs. "It's a mix of both at the moment. I'm in my default form, I just have a vagina. Vulva. Whatever you wanna call it. Like I said, if it's weird, I can bring back my dick, or I can go full succubus form, whatever you want."

"No, this is fine." And really, it is. Having a demon that he's very, very attracted to having genitalia that he is also very, very attracted to. Not to mention he hasn't had any vagina action in a long time, so this... this works.

The insides of San's thighs are a lot smoother than Wooyoung remembers. The demon jerks once his fingers land on him, a reaction that seems a lot more acute than before. His thighs are quivering under the human's touch, making Wooyoung smirk as his hands travel inward towards San's sex. He ducks down, giving himself a more detailed view, and _holy shit_ , if it isn't the most aesthetically pleasing vulva Wooyoung has laid eyes on.

Well, as expected of a sex demon, perhaps.

From what Wooyoung can see, it's already shining with wetness, probably from riding his thigh. "Is it okay?" San asks, sounding almost timid.

"More than okay," Wooyoung responds before flattening himself onto his stomach and hooking his arms under San's thighs. "I'm gonna go in now, okay?"

"Okay."

When Wooyoung licks his first stripe up San's slit, the demon's hips thrust up involuntarily as the strawberry slickness fills his mouth again. He actually has to hold San's hips down from how much the demon is squirming beneath him, sharp, whiny breaths spilling from his mouth. "W-Wooyoung, that's... so good. F-Fuck."

"You taste amazing," Wooyoung mumbles, attaching his lips to San's clit.

"Oh _fuck_!" San gasps as Wooyoung circles his tongue around the nub before flattening it back against his wetness. Strawberry floods his mouth as more pours out from San's opening, the demon grinding down onto Wooyoung's mouth with his fingers tangled in his hair.

San's vagina is even warmer than his cock, with nothing but heat and sweet strawberry dancing around on Wooyoung's tongue. His entire mouth and chin are a mess with his saliva and San's fluids, but _god_ , it's spurring him on, the sugary haze returning to his head as he drinks San in.

Overwhelmingly curious, Wooyoung slides his middle and index fingers inside alongside his mouth, and San's thighs shake again. "O-Oh, fuck, Wooyoung!" he cries once Wooyoung curls his fingers up. The human reattaches his lips to the clit, sucking gently and licking it over. With cautious, languid movements of his fingers, Wooyoung aims upward in hopes of finding San's g-spot (hoping he has one, which he probably does).

All the while, San's practically oozing, coating Wooyoung's fingers as his own dig into the human's scalp. "S-Shit, Wooyoung, right there! Right there!" His moans have become shrill, _loud_ , and Wooyoung is grateful that they're not doing this at his apartment.

With his tongue and mouth working San's clit, his fingers repeatedly nudging that spot inside him, San _gushes_ , his come flooding out of him and shooting right onto Wooyoung's fingers and partially into his mouth. The substance is slick and viscous, just like the slick he'd produced from his other hole, and oh so strawberry-sweet.

San is _heaving_ , his orgasm appearing to have hit him like a goddamn tsunami or something. "Shit," he gasps. "Oh my god, that... might have been my best orgasm yet."

"Yeah?" Wooyoung chuckles, pulling his fingers out. They're drenched in strawberry come, which he sucks off eagerly. "I hear female orgasms are even better than male ones."

"Well, fuck, I can attest to that," San says. "Now look, I've gotten fucked in my female form before. But I want you to _fuck me._ You understand?"

And while Wooyoung doesn't _fully_ comprehend what San means, he has a pretty good idea. He nods, spreading San's legs further out and sliding his length against San's slit. It's still wet, _very_ wet, to the point where Wooyoung just slides in without even intending to, like San just sucks him in. "Holy fuck," he gasps out as San's walls cling onto him.

It's not so different from San’s asshole, actually; his walls are quite palpably wet, hot and tight, and Wooyoung has to take a few seconds just to _breathe._ He looks San in the eyes, brown on brown, and says, "San... no powers tonight, okay?"

San nods, blinking those same brown eyes. "No powers."

"I want to feel you. I want you to feel me. Okay?"

San nods again, crossing his legs behind Wooyoung's back and pulling him in. "Does it feel good?" he asks as Wooyoung begins to rock his hips.

"Fuck, _yes_ ," Wooyoung groans, his cock being swallowed up by San's tight hole, already slightly regretting asking San for a no powers night because he knows he won't be able to last long. He can never last long with San. He makes it a goal, however, to make sure San comes before he does.

His thrusts are sharp, with every collision of their hips producing a slapping sound that rings throughout the room. San's moans haven't quelled at all; each one just as sweet as his strawberry slick. He keeps his hands wrapped around Wooyoung's neck, holding him close as his moans slip into the human's ears.

"Just like that, Wooyoung," San cries into his ear, almost breathlessly. "God, you feel so fucking good."

_You do too, holy shit._

San lets out a small chuckle amid the moans, his ankles locking behind Wooyoung and urging him even deeper inside. Much like before, Wooyoung grabs the bends of San's knees and pushes them forward until San is being supported just by his lower back and Wooyoung is pounding into him from above. The change in angle sparks something in San, as his walls clench even tighter around Wooyoung's cock. "Oh, f-fuck, Woo—ah, s-so fucking deep!"

"Shit, San, you're so tight," Wooyoung grunts.

Biting his bottom lip, San brings one of his hands up to rub at his clit. The new stimulation makes him squeeze even tighter around Wooyoung as the two of them let out a simultaneous moan. "God, San, I can't last like this."

"That's okay," San practically whimpers. "You can come whenever you want."

Wooyoung tries, he really does. It's just so fucking difficult, seeing San like this, bent in half, entire face twisted with an unfamiliar pleasure. A demon, who has never felt this sort of pleasure before Wooyoung came along, is just as lost in the lustful haze as he is, drowning in pleasure, and _fuck it._

Wooyoung is in love.

Even so, he clenches his jaw, bites back the words, and thrusts into San like it's his last night with him.

Because fuck, any night could be his last night with him.

In the end, Wooyoung _does_ come first despite his daring efforts not to, but as he pulses inside San, the demon's walls undulate, his face still scrunched up, and he's still moaning even though Wooyoung has stopped moving. "W-Wooyoung, 'm gonna come."

"You are?"

"Y-Yeah, p-pull out."

Confused but intrigued, Wooyoung pulls out slowly, and watches as San's eyes roll back in his head.

When he's fully out, a waterfall of slick and come follows. San's fingers grip the pillows behind him as his body writhes, and Wooyoung can only watch in astonishment as San soaks the sheets underneath them. And fuck, his moans, they're so _loud_ , nearly pornographic. His breathing is rapid and heavy as he comes down, his legs going limp once the fluid spewing from his body trickles down. Wooyoung's mouth drops open, his senses overwhelmed by nothing but strawberries, cinnamon, and vanilla.

"Holy _shit._ "

San is still gasping for breath that his only response is, "Yeah."

Wooyoung is the first to laugh. San joins him seconds later, eyes still brown and smile soft, and when Wooyoung looks at him this time, nothing much has changed.

San is still a demon. San still doesn't breathe outside of their sexual counters. Wooyoung is still human. Wooyoung is still not immortal.

But god fucking damn it, Wooyoung is still in love.

***

To San's surprise, it isn't Seonghwa who joins him on the roof that night, but Yeosang. He doesn't know how the Plane Walker managed to find him, but he doesn't question it all that much. Perhaps he's been secretly keeping tabs on him all along.

With no heartbeat _or_ footsteps, San is quite shocked to see the pale demon drop by his side and dangle his legs off the edge in a similar fashion. "Hey, San."

"Yeosang? What are you doing here?"

The demon smiles. "Just thought I'd drop by. Seonghwa's company is great and all, but even I need a break from his ancientness. How are you doing?"

San shrugs. "I'm okay."

"Just okay?"

The incubus shrugs again. Yeosang sighs. "Your friend, Wooyoung, was it? He seems nice. I hope he wasn't offended that I didn't show myself. It's just that my appearance can be quite... unsettling to some people."

"If you don't show yourself to people in the first place, how would you know your appearance is unsettling to them?"

Yeosang purses his lips in thought. "You have a point."

San just chuckles and scoffs. "So he's the guy you love, huh?"

"What?"

"Don't play dumb, San." Yeosang smiles, like he's all-knowing or something. There's a glint of _something_ in those glowing amber eyes of his, something San can't quite put his finger on. "You're so whipped for him."

"Whipped?"

"You _love_ him," Yeosang clarifies with a smirk.

"I don't."

"Yeah, you do. I could tell just by the way you had your arm around him and the few times you looked at him. He looked at you the same way, you know. He looked just as in love. So, when's the next date? When's the wedding?"

"Yeosang, can you shut up?" San asks, quite roughly at that.

Unbothered, Yeosang just chuckles and lets out a hefty sigh. "You know, after reading that text, I did a lot of thinking. The existence of a demon is pretty shitty, when you think about it. Like, we were human at one point, yeah? And we were murdered. Cursed to continue on as a demon instead of passing on and enjoying the afterlife, if there is one. And to think, as demons, we have the _choice_ , whether we perish or not. Can you believe that?"

 _"You_ did _read that part about how Plane and Earth Walkers will stop feeding just so they can commit suicide, right?"_

"It's weird," Yeosang says.

_Unfamiliar. That's what Seonghwa would say._

In this case, San isn't sure if that's the right word.

"It must be hard, loving a human," Yeosang says, and San can't find it in him to argue, because _yeah, it_ is _hard loving a human._

\---

_"Do you love him?"_

_San bit down on his lip, hard. He wanted to feel something. Any ounce of pain he could get. Can demons even bleed?_

_"And be honest," Seonghwa said. He was eyeing San down, his simple brown eyes so intense. San was immune to his influential powers, but this wasn't anything like that. This was Seonghwa asking a simple question with a not-so-simple answer._

_"I don't know what love_ is _, Seonghwa," San said, and that was his honest answer._

 _He didn't know, because he never felt anything before. Maybe he did as a human, who knows? But despite his clouded memories of the physical sensations, somehow_ _knowing_ _what physical pain is_ supposed _to feel like, San couldn't remember anything about emotions. Love. What even is it? What is he_ supposed _to feel?_

_"Answer me this, then," Seonghwa said. "If Wooyoung were to leave, or if something were to happen that would separate the two of you, what would you do?"_

_The flock was long gone at this point. Just San, Seonghwa, and the howling wind stirring everywhere around them. "I'd go back to being a demon. This existence of nothingness. Eating hearts. Doing what I need to survive."_

_"Do you feel nothingness whenever you are with Wooyoung?"_

_"No," San answered almost instantly._

_"What do you feel when you are with him?"_

_San closed his eyes. Imagined Wooyoung with him, hand in his. Imagined hearing Wooyoung's oceanic heartbeats. Imagined his warmth, which he can now_ actually _imagine. Physically, he couldn't feel it. But he knew what it felt like._

_He feels everything when he's with Wooyoung._

_"I think your silence speaks volumes, San. And I believe you are aware of it too."_

_Seonghwa sighed, placing his hands behind his back. "I will stay by your side, San. That, I will not dispute. However, just know that when the time comes, when your time with Wooyoung comes to an end... if you do not admit to yourself and do not say anything, you will regret not telling him you loved him._ That _will be the emptiest existence of all._ "

_And with that, Seonghwa vanished._

\---

"You should tell him," Yeosang says.

"I really shouldn't," San snaps back.

"He's head-over-heels for you, dude. I could see it in his eyes, the way he looked at you. And you, too. I get that you have this whole protection thing going on, like you feel the need to protect him from this killer, which, like, good. It's good that he has your protection. But at the same time, and I'm sure you've been told this plenty of times, he _is_ human. He's going to die, whether he's killed by the killer or just lives until he dies of old age. Are you really going to stay with him until then?"

Of course. Of fucking course. Because everybody, demon or not demon, can see it.

"You need to tell him sometime before he dies, you know," Yeosang says nonchalantly. "If you don't, and he dies without knowing you loved him, well, that would fucking suck. His soul would pass on without knowing somebody loved him."

Even _Yeosang_ , a demon that San barely even knows, is telling him this. Almost the exact same thing Seonghwa had, just in a much more casual fashion.

"Trust me, I'm pretty sure he loves you too."

Fuck.

"Sure, San, as demons, we don't get to die unless we want to. For humans, it's sometimes like that, like, if a human decides to kill themselves or something. But try to imagine an existence without Wooyoung. You can't, right? Because he's irrevocably changed your existence. An existence without Wooyoung..."

_It's the emptiest existence of all._

"With the time Wooyoung has left... make the most of it, San. Tell him you love him so both of you can exist knowing that you love each other, even if his time is temporary. Make _his_ existence worth it."

Yeosang stays by his side without another word, just letting his legs hang off the edge of the building. He hums a melody to himself, one that San doesn't recognize. Somehow, despite having the outward appearance of a supernatural creature, Yeosang is more human-like than most of the humans he's encountered in the past.

"Humanity is such a mystery," Yeosang mumbles to himself. "Humans always say to make the most of your life. Live life to the fullest. Because you live, and then you die. What happens in between is up you. Except for us... we lived, we died, and now we continue to exist eternally unless we decide to kill ourselves."

San scoffs.

"Sorry. Just me thinking into the void that is our existence. But seriously, San. Tell Wooyoung you love him before you lose him."

And yeah, losing Wooyoung can mean a lot of things. There are a lot of ways San could lose Wooyoung, none of which he wants to imagine, because it's as Yeosang says. His existence has undeniably, irrevocably changed because of that clumsy human with a freckle beneath his left eye and a stupidly cute smile and an ocean for a heart.

He's a demon. He will exist forever. He can get anything he wants. He can control the world at his fingertips if he wanted to.

So besides Wooyoung, what else does he have to lose?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LOOK OKAY I DONT WRITE SMUT INVOLVING VAGINAS THIS WAS NEW FOR ME KAJF;DSAJDSHAF IM SORRY
> 
> FOR SOMEONE WHO HAS A VAGINA, I CANT WRITE SMUT INVOLVING ONE AJKL;HASDFD;SA
> 
> to those who have stuck around for this long... thank you. this fic is drawing near to the end. i am excited ;)
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/galaxysangs)


	10. decem

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here we are, the final chapter!! i'd say the next two chapters are more epilogue-ish.
> 
> tw for mentions of rape and murder, a non-graphic incident of suicide (not any of the main characters), an actual murder scene, violence and gore, and someone dies.

It takes a shorter amount of time to find the most recent body. Where Nam Soobin's body was identified after just a little over a week, this body, belonging to a woman named Choi Kyungsoo, a twenty-two-year-old college student, was found and identified just five days after Seonghwa first showed San the picture of her mangled corpse.

The news report is similar, though they were able to identify her much more quickly somehow. Her photo shows up on the television screen. She resembles Soobin in a lot of ways; a narrowly angled face, paler complexion, and short dark brown hair that rests at the base of her neck. San frowns as her photo remains on screen while the news reporter lists off details surrounding her death. It's a lot more technical stuff, so of course, Yunho pulls up another online journal article and reads it to the group.

"...Unlike the previous murder, there was no note left by the killer. Her body was found in a similar fashion, leading authorities to believe that it was the same person as before. However, because both of these murders are still inconsistent with the Heart-Ripping Killer's previous victims, the authorities are still hesitant as to whether these murders were carried out by the killer or not."

"Whether it was the Heart-Ripping Killer or not, it's still a murderer. Not to mention Kyungsoo kinda looks like Soobin... don't you think?" Mingi says.

"Maybe that's who this killer is targeting. Women who look like Soobin," Yunho pitches in, the article's focus now being the photo of Kyungsoo.

"So, pale women with short brown hair."

"Seems like it."

San thinks it's too soon to draw those sorts of conclusions. After all, it's only been two victims. Of course, San wouldn't want a third, and it's not like the appearance matters _that_ much. They were still innocent women who had their lives cut too short, too soon.

"I wonder if the killer knew either of the women," Mingi wonders.

Probably not, San thinks. Sure, he himself might be _somewhat_ of a serial killer, but the characteristics of his victims are those that cannot be seen. There is evil beneath skin, eyes, hair, and clothes, no matter how tattered or pristine. Evil can exist in anybody. With this killer, however, his two victims were women who were probably innocent, and they look similar.

This is probably the work of a _true_ serial killer.

If there is another victim, and they happen to look like Soobin and Kyungsoo, then it will only confirm San's (and probably plenty of other people's suspicions.

He doesn't believe in karma, but for the killer's sake, he hopes it gets to them before he does.

Because unless there's something about karma that San isn't aware of, it doesn't come in the form of a demon with an appetite for evil hearts.

\---

With the sudden onslaught of autumn, Wooyoung starts to wear a lot more long-sleeved clothing, and one day, he surprises San by dressing in his infamous pink sweater slash overall duo (the cuffs of the overalls are rolled up, a stereotypical sign of bisexuality, as San has learned from Yunho and Mingi). It's a school day too. He hops out of his closet, strikes an ostentatious pose, and asks, "You like?"

"I do," San answers, because yes, he really does. He'd never found any human to be _this_ adorable, but then again, he's never felt any sort of way towards a human. Plus, it's _Wooyoung_ , so by default, of course he likes it. "You look cute."

"I haven't worn this outfit in a while. I normally don't dress like this since... it's quite flamboyant. But I figured fuck it, I'm feeling like a spring baby during the middle of fall, not to mention this outfit is hella warm and I don't wanna be freezing my balls off. You're so lucky you don't feel temperature, it's been really cold lately. Oh, also, do you know what you're gonna do today while I'm in class? Do you wanna do anything after I'm done?"

"Wooyoung, you're rambling," San points out, smiling, as he stands up to follow Wooyoung out his bedroom.

Wooyoung giggles, grabbing his backpack off the floor next to the kitchen island. "I know. But I feel like it's okay for me to do it around you. Of course, if I ever annoy you, please do feel free to tell me to shut the fuck up." He grins cheerfully at the demon, taking his hand in his. "Come on, let's go."

San doesn't know where this sudden confidence has come from, but he loves every second of it. He loves that Wooyoung holds his hand as they walk down the street, squeezes it tightly, and has the faintest smile on his face the entire way there. Sporting a pastel pink sweater under a denim pair of overalls, he definitely stands out, and San notices the way pedestrians look their way, their stares ranging from confusion to distaste to not really caring at all, but Wooyoung walks with pep, a smile, and the heartbeat of tidal waves.

San doesn't stop him and tell him, "people are staring." He doesn't once let up, just follows Wooyoung and lets the human hold his hand. He doesn't tell Wooyoung to stop walking so theatrically. Instead, he stays by the human's side, just as he promised, and glances over often just to catch a glimpse of Wooyoung's radiant features.

Even though it's a cloudy day, Wooyoung is beaming.

San has never seen Wooyoung so jubilant in the amount of time he's known him.

 _I love you_ , San wants to say. Under the shrouded daylight, San wants to tell Wooyoung that he loves him, his pink sweater and overalls and his rambling and shrill laughter. He wants to tell Wooyoung that somehow, he managed to beat the odds and made San _feel._ Everything. He wants to tell Wooyoung everything.

"Well, as per usual, it's up to you what you wanna do. I'll text you when I'm out of class."

They've come to a stop at Wooyoung's classroom while several other students start filing in. The human finally releases his hand, and San finds himself wishing he didn't. "Don't get into any trouble, now," San chides lightheartedly.

"I think I should be saying that to you, Mr. Heart-Eating Demon." Wooyoung smirks, and, unexpectedly, he places a kiss on the tip of San's nose. "See you when I'm done!"

With one final flash of his dazzling smile, Wooyoung enters the classroom. As San turns around, a few students look at him, then immediately look away. Perhaps it's his appearance, as it always seems to be. He's the complete opposite of Wooyoung, clad in his usual all-black attire, and according to many, he has the flawless appearance of a celebrity. Maybe he's intimidating like that.

"Dude," a rough voice says from his side. There's a student staring him down, posture slumped, hands shoved into his pockets. There's a sizable distance between them, no imminent threat (not that humans are a threat to him anyway). "No one wants to see that."

San narrows his eyes, listening to the way the student's heartbeat wavers. "Nobody wants to see you and that tragic haircut of yours," he says to the student and his shaven sides and floppy excuse for a head of hair at the top. Nearly all the students have gone to class. San figures he'll let this guy have it.

He walks towards him, eyes locked, and says, "Go to class, but choke for the next minute or two. God knows nobody wants to hear you talk."

He's smirking to himself as he bumps the student's shoulder before walking away, listening to the pleasant sound of coughing and retching as the student enters the classroom.

\---

There's a three-hour period between Wooyoung's first and second class, so Wooyoung takes that time to meet San for lunch at one of the university's dining halls. It's basically a buffet, food that, of course, doesn't do anything for San, but according to Wooyoung, the food is enough to make you gain sufficient weight for an entire winter. Packed with protein, fat, grease, and happiness, Wooyoung says, as the two sit down at a table near one of the windows.

"People were looking at me in class today," Wooyoung says with a mouthful of food. It's cute. Reminds San of a chipmunk. "Guess people aren't used to seeing a dude in a pastel sweater with overalls over it."

San briefly considers telling him about the encounter outside the classroom, but then Wooyoung adds, "Also, this douchebag came in choking on his own spit. The professor wasn't in yet, and people didn't know whether to call for help or not. I mean, I just sat there 'cause the guy's a dick. He stopped after minute or two, but it was funny."

"Oh, yeah, I did that," San says with a chuckle. "I told him to choke."

"Good."

The clouds have seemed to depart for the most part, and a ray of sunshine peers through the window over Wooyoung's head. He's still smiling even as he eats, puffed out cheeks and all, and all San can do is stare because _fucking shit_ , he's enamored. His skin is golden, flawless, as is the rest of him. There are plenty of things about Wooyoung that others could see as flaws. San can't see anything like that.

"I decided to be a bit more confident today," Wooyoung says after he swallows a bite. "Sure, I got a few weird stares, but it felt good. Like, I held your hand and wore this outfit and I felt... free. You know?"

"I'm glad," San says.

"I hope you didn't mind that I was openly affectionate."

"Wooyoung, as a demon, I don't mind anything."

The human breaks out into a wide grin. "Touché."

San doesn't mind anything when it comes to Wooyoung. Especially not when Wooyoung is striding confidently around campus, wearing the outfit that he seems so proud of, holding San's hand and kissing his nose because he _wants_ to, unashamed.

Seeing Wooyoung like this... San wants to see it forever.

He doesn't mind it one bit.

\---

Just as Seonghwa instructed him to do, San keeps his eyes and ears out, but there aren't any evil heartbeats from what he can tell. San eventually decides to venture around the area while Wooyoung is in class to see if he can pick up on anything, but it's all just a blend of innocent heartbeats, nothing evil to be heard. He does consider travelling a bit further just to see if the killer really is near or approaching, but Wooyoung...

For all he knows, in the time he's gone, something could happen. He doesn't want to take the risk.

San fears that he's becoming soft. He's not that rugged, cold-hearted demon he used to be. He took mercy on an innocent, and now that innocent is unintentionally toying with his _emotions_ , something that he didn't even know he could _have_ , and now, he doesn't even want to go searching for evil to purge.

He's been all around the country. He's traveled to several others. And now, he's bound to a single city because of a human who stole his unbeating heart.

San enjoys feeling human. But he also fears it. Evil still exists, and it always will.

He will do as Wooyoung and Seonghwa said. If this heartbeat draws near, San will end it.

In the meantime, San will stay by Wooyoung's side. He'll hold his hand, watch Wooyoung do homework, kiss him in forbidden places, send his soul into nothing but pleasure, and _love_ him, because that's what San _wants._ He wants Wooyoung. He wants to love him. He does.

Every single time they lie in each other's embrace, San wants to say it. He can't tell if Wooyoung wants to say it, or if the human even reciprocates the feelings, but there's always something in the back of his mind telling him not to.

As he's constantly being reminded, Wooyoung isn't immortal.

Is that it? Is that why he's afraid to tell Wooyoung? San's never been afraid of anything, but the idea of confessing makes his entire body want to freeze up. It makes his chest hurt despite his heart not functioning.

Maybe it's not the fear of confessing, but the fear of losing.

He loves what he has with Wooyoung. He loves watching the human carry on with his days, smiling. He notices Wooyoung's confidence grow day by day, wearing outfits that aren't just a hoodie and jeans and tattered Converse. He takes San to campus with him hand-in-hand, and leaves him with a kiss on the nose or cheeks. He ignores the sometimes vicious stares thrown their way. Wooyoung is everything San has ever wanted him to be.

He is so endlessly proud and in love.

As he watches the moon hang above him one night, with Wooyoung sleeping peacefully in his condo below, he thinks about what he might have been like as a human.

Someone who loved unconditionally, Wooyoung had said once. Someone _good._ San can't even begin to imagine it, not after all the killing he's done as a demon. Not that he feels guilty, because every victim he's killed deserved what they got, but San doesn't necessarily think that makes him _good._ As a human, however, perhaps he was. Perhaps he was like Wooyoung, bashful at times, but selfless and good-natured, down to earth and thoughtful.

He brushes his fingers down the trail of freckles on his neck and thinks back to the marks on Wooyoung's, the proof of his attack, the start of it all. Right. That was when San had saved him from an untimely demise.

He wonders what makes a good person. He definitely knows what makes an evil person, or just assholes in general, but is anybody really ever _good_? Humans and demons alike have their faults, flaws, mistakes. The assholes aren't inherently evil.

He remembers Wooyoung saying that everybody deserves a chance at life, to be a good person. That even the evil ones deserve a chance. San supposes that once that chance is wasted, there's no going back. The evil people ruin a good life for themselves the moment they let their anger take over. But even so, even with all the evil and good out there, there is no such thing as a truly good person, San thinks.

And if there's no such thing as a truly good person, perhaps there's no such thing as a truly evil person either.

 _"Everyone deserves a chance at life, even the evil ones. Everyone deserves a chance to be_ good, _to live well."_

That's what San probably wanted as a human. A chance. And that chance was ripped from him.

His attacker had the same chance, and abused it. San can't stand people like that. Murderers, rapists, all those horrible, awful people out there in the world who took their chance and stomped on it due to selfishness, anger, or whatever else spurs evil in the world... they had their chance.

Everyone does. What they decide to do with it is what shapes the world they live in.

People aren't born inherently evil, nor are they born inherently good, San thinks. But they _are_ born with a chance. Some chances are cut shorter than others, just like his. Just like all of his victims. Whether the chance lasts a short or long time, at least everyone has one.

The evil ones could have been good. The good ones could have been evil. San wonders if it's up to the chance.

He can't stop thinking about Wooyoung's words. They hold some sort of false hope to them, trying to excuse the evil people from their wrongdoings. Hell, Wooyoung could have had his chance cut short if San hadn't saved him, yet he _still_ says such things.

Even though San doesn't believe anybody is born inherently good, he still believes that Wooyoung (and probably a lot of other people) is too good for this world.

As a demon, San now has infinite chances. He will rid the world of evil people who steal those chances from those who are trying to make something of them. Even though everybody may deserve a chance at life, those who dare try to take that opportunity away...

 _Those_ are the truly evil people of the world.

San will give all of his chances in order to save others'.

 _That_ is the reason for his rebirth, he concludes.

\---

"Wooyoung," San says one night while Wooyoung is studying.

"What's up?"

"You do realize... I'm going to exist forever. You aren't."

There's a pause in Wooyoung's breathing and a stutter in his heartbeat. It's not exactly a confession, but San needs Wooyoung to know. To understand that whatever they have isn't forever.

"Yeah... I've thought about that a lot." Wooyoung doesn't look back from his computer screen. "It's surreal, thinking about it. I mean, what'll happen when I'm no longer twenty-something? When I start getting fat and old? What then?"

San can't help himself from chuckling. "I'm serious!" Wooyoung says with only a hint of sarcasm. "San, you look like you're a twenty-something-year-old celebrity, literally _perfect_ , and you're going to look like that forever. I, on the other hand, am going to get fat and old and wrinkly. I'm not going to be young forever, and that's a fact. I don't..." The human lets out a long sigh. "I know we promised wouldn't leave each other, but I guess... I guess that's only for when I'm young. I do expect you to leave me at some point, and, well... that's okay."

The waves in his heartbeat ripple mournfully. His lungs sing a melancholy song. "I love... I love what we have right now, don't get me wrong. But I _am_ going to die someday, whether I get sick, get in an accident, or just die of old age. And I know that the promise I made you make was selfish, because you _will_ have to leave me someday, but... I don't want you to leave until my heartbeat changes."

San frowns. "What do you mean?"

"Like, I am who I am right now. If I change, if my heartbeat gets weak or whatever from age, or if I just... if my heartbeat doesn't sound the same one day, I want you to leave."

San can't even begin to fathom what Wooyoung means. From what he's experienced, heartbeats don't just _change_ , but even he doesn't know that for sure. "God, San, sometimes I just wish I could be a demon and live forever with you."

"You wouldn't want that, Wooyoung," San says honestly. "A demon's existence is pretty empty, you know that. I don't feel things, I can't taste or smell anything, and I eat hearts and feed off of sex. Forever."

"If I had you, it wouldn't be that empty."

"You don't want to become a demon, Wooyoung."

"But I _do_ want to be with _you_."

There's a sudden surge in Wooyoung's heartbeat. He means it.

"Wooyoung, come here."

Wooyoung finally gets up and turns around, climbing onto the bed but not to San's side. He simply sits at the edge, his bottom lip sucked in. "Sure, a demon's existence might be empty," Wooyoung says, "but does it feel empty when you have me?"

San takes it upon himself to move next to Wooyoung, hip pressed to hip. "Wooyoung, look at me."

Almost reluctantly, the human turns his head and looks the demon straight in the eyes. "Of course my existence doesn't feel empty when I'm with you. It's _because_ I have you that my existence isn't empty. You fill it. But I couldn't... I don't want that for you. I don't want you to live forever."

"But what about what _I_ want?" Wooyoung asks. His eyes are glossing over. Tears. San hates tears. "What if _I_ want to live forever with you?" He scoffs. "Hypothetically speaking."

San sighs, bringing one of his hands up to cup Wooyoung's cheek. He feels a tear land on it. "I... if I could become a demon, I would, San. I really would. I don't want to leave you, and I don't want you to leave me. I already told you... all of me, belongs to you. Heart, soul, everything."

"Wooyoung, that's..."

"San, I—"

"Heeeeeey, Wooyoungie! We're home!"

Wooyoung inhales sharply, tears vanishing as if they've been sucked back into his eyeballs. His lips press together in a frustrated line as he pinches the bridge of his nose, standing reluctantly. "God, I'm sorry, San."

"It's fine," San says, both shrugging and screaming internally.

If only Yunho and Mingi's hearts were evil.

Wooyoung leaves the bedroom while San takes a few moments to compose himself before eventually following him out. Though his heartbeat thuds angrily in his chest, he's casually talking to his roommates, until suddenly, Yunho's tone becomes somber.

"Jaewon killed himself."

" _What_?" Wooyoung exclaims.

"Yeah," Mingi says. "Heard it from Jongho today. He killed himself in prison. Don't know how, but I guess the weight of his crimes got to him, or he just really hated it in there."

"Fucking hell," Wooyoung groans, rubbing his forehead.

While San feels next to nothing, he can imagine such news still hits hard for others, even if the person in question was evil. There's an eerie lull in all of their heartbeats as if their bodies are still trying to comprehend the news, Wooyoung's especially, but of course it would be that way for him. Wooyoung, who is too good for this world, feels even the slightest bit of sympathy for the evil. San could never.

"Is there going to be any sort of service for him?" Wooyoung asks.

Yunho shrugs. "Don't know, don't care."

Wooyoung nods, and that's all he does.

San is used to death. He's been the cause plenty of it after all. He's let _some_ of his victims live in the past but never keeps tabs on them, but he imagines that some of their fates were similar to that of Jaewon's. San can't sympathize in the slightest, but perhaps living like that, with permanent wounds and reminders of their wrongdoings, would send them over the edge and guide their souls to what could have been if San had ripped their hearts out instead.

San has to stop himself from smiling with sadistic satisfaction in front of Wooyoung's innocent roommates.

Evil will only cease to prevail as long as his existence continues.

\---

Seonghwa visits San more frequently, whether it be because of concern for San's sanity or because there's not much else for him to do when there aren't any souls being reaped. He tells San that there are plenty of other reapers in the country, all over the world, that do his job just the same, and that people don't die as often as San might think. While reapers' existences rely on their duty, that doesn't mean they have to constantly do it.

In fact, Seonghwa tells San that there have been plenty of opportunities for him to reap souls, but he chooses to stay.

"I continue to consider you a valuable partner, San. I swore I would stay by your side. I will only reap souls if I must."

San asks him why, and Seonghwa counters with, "Well, that is what you are doing for Wooyoung, is it not?" That shuts San up real quick.

While Wooyoung sleeps, San spends his time on rooftops as he normally does with Seonghwa beside him more often than not. They small talk occasionally, but there isn't much to discuss between the existences of two demons. As much as San's existence is filled because of Wooyoung, it's not like Seonghwa would ever understand.

San tells Seonghwa that he has been alert, keeping his eyes and ears open, but there are no erratic heartbeats, no signs of evil anywhere in the area. Seonghwa stares at the corpses on his phone, observing them as if he'll figure something else out, but nothing ever comes of it.

The best they can do is wait.

"Do you think they'll come through here?" San asks.

"It is impossible to tell. Are you aware of the distance your hearing covers?"

San shakes his head. "It's not really something you can gauge. All I know is that I can hear heartbeats when they're nearby, but even then, unless I'm in the vicinity of the evil person, I can't tell exactly who it belongs to."

"I have an idea, a trap, so to speak, if you would like to hear it."

"A trap to catch the copycat killer?" San asks.

Seonghwa nods, swiping through the photos on his phone. He's saved photos of the victims' actual faces, Soobin and Kyungsoo, who resemble each other in the slightest of ways. "Of course, it is impossible to tell if this is what the killer is doing, but these two women look similar. I am sure that you have already noticed this." San nods to confirm. "If this killer is truly targeting women who look like this, then perhaps you can use your camouflage to lure them in. That is, if they are ever in the area."

It's a pretty good plan, San thinks. There aren't any risks that he can see. Even if the killer isn't targeting young women with short brown hair and pale complexions, there's no harm in carrying out the plan. "That's a pretty good idea, actually. I just don't know when I'd do it, you know? Do I only do it when I hear the heartbeat? Or do I just start from here on out?"

"That is up to you, San, if you decide to do it at all."

"No, trust me, it's actually a pretty good idea." San pauses for a moment, contemplating the plan.

If he's going to do it, he has to do it alone.

"You worry about Wooyoung, correct?" Seonghwa questions. Of course. San nods. "San, I do believe Wooyoung will be okay. If this killer is only targeting women with this specific appearance, then they will not go after Wooyoung."

"You're right," San says with a nod.

Right. As much as San wants to protect Wooyoung from whatever might come his way, he knows that Wooyoung is just another human in the world who has no reason to be targeted. Since Dongsuk, Wooyoung wasn't really ever at risk. Wooyoung will be fine.

A bird flies over their heads across the midnight sky.

"I'll tell Wooyoung about it," San says affirmatively. "And I'll start right away."

Seonghwa nods to concur. "Bring this evil to justice, San. I will reap their soul when the time comes."

It's another chance, San thinks. One more chance among many. This person had theirs, and now, it's his.

Wooyoung will be okay. He repeats it over and over.

Somewhere in the distance, a morning bird caws.

\---

San figures he'll turn this little plan into a prank before he carries it out. He leaves Wooyoung a note in the morning telling him that he'll be out and about with Seonghwa in the morning but will wait for him to get out of his first class, when in actuality, he's back at his condo staring at his disguise in the mirror. His illusion is similar but not exact to the appearances of Soobin and Kyungsoo, but it fits the bill, with a bob of brown hair and a pale complexion. He wears an outfit that actually isn't black, opting for something unnecessarily business casual, with a white button-up and a pair of navy blue jeans _without_ rips, complete with a pair of glossy black closed-toed heels.

Still, he gives off that young professor vibe. It makes him chuckle.

Just like he said, San waits outside the classroom, and not-so-unsurprisingly, he doesn't attract as much attention as his normal form does. Maybe it's the outfit. He is aware, however, that the natural aura he gives off is alluring, not that it's something he can help, but he definitely does capture the attention of some male students walking past him.

He hears their hearts speed up and the blood spike in their tunnels as they walk by, but he doesn't once glance up from his phone. He watches the digital numbers tick by even as a male student sits next to him, heart speaking the true intention of talking to him rather than just casually sitting down to do his homework. It's not an evil heartbeat, and while San can't necessarily distinguish the heartbeats of innocent people and just plain perverted people, he's pretty damn sure this is the case here.

Of course, having dealt with plenty of people like this before, San just sighs, watches his screen, and says absolutely nothing.

And of course, giving the student no attention whatsoever, the guy ends up walking away. San smirks to himself. So simple-minded.

When the students start filing out of the classroom, San recognizes the familiar heartbeat among the crowd. He stands, watching as Wooyoung appears from the parted sea of students and gazes around with a confused frown.

"Wooyoung," San says, his voice entirely new and unfamiliar.

Wooyoung's head freezes, his frown deepening and brows creasing as he searches for the person who just said his name. Chuckling, San steps forward, the class having dispersed now, and taps Wooyoung's arm. "Wooyoung, it's me."

In this form, Wooyoung has a few centimeters on him. The human looks down at him, eyes widening with realization. "Wait, San?" he asks in a hushed voice.

San nods. "Me, in the succubus flesh."

"What are you... I mean, you look fantastic, don't get me wrong, but what are you doing in your female form?"

San just takes his hand and tugs him along. "I'll explain it to you later. But just know, in this form, you can call me... Minha."

"Minha? Why does that name seem familiar?" Wooyoung asks.

"It was the name of Jaewon's sister. The one he murdered," San explains, and Wooyoung's mouth forms an 'O.' "I couldn't really think of any other name. Thought I'd recycle it, as morbid as it may seem."

Wooyoung shrugs. "Well, whatever you decide to call yourself in this form. So, I should call you Minha while you look like this?"

"Yup."

"Cool."

San tells Wooyoung of Seonghwa's plan while they sit over coffee and a few pastries from another one of the university's cafés. All the while, he tries to ignore the butterflies hopping around inside him while he watches Wooyoung's inflated cheeks fill with food because Wooyoung just keeps getting cuter by the day, and as time passes, San is finding it harder and harder to contain his feelings even though he really, really doesn't want to.

As time passes, San falls even more.

But he digresses and continues telling Wooyoung about the plan, how he's going to go about camouflaged as Minha from now on in an attempt to lure out the bogus Heart-Ripping Killer, just in case they ever come through the area. All the while, Wooyoung listens intently with stuffed cheeks and nods of the head.

"You'll be okay. You won't be in any danger, I promise," San tells him, reaching over to take Wooyoung's hand in his.

"I believe you. It's like you said. I'm not really at any risk here, especially if this killer is only going after women. Plus, I'm not too worried about you, since you're, y'know, invincible and all that." Wooyoung snorts out a laugh, powdered sugar coating the corners of his mouth. "But I'm honestly glad that you're going through with this plan. And even if it turns out the person isn't targeting women who look like you, at least you'll have a radar out for their heartbeat."

San smiles softly, his delicate fingers curling in Wooyoung's. "At least you'll get a break from me."

Wooyoung squeezes his fingers back. "I could never get sick of you. And, like, no offense, but I'll probably be able to get more work done efficiently without your sexiness to distract me."

San releases his hand with an impish grin, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. "Glad to know my company distracts you from living your life."

"I wouldn't have it any other way."

As the minutes go by, San watches Wooyoung finish up his coffee and pastries, listens to the calm waves of his heart, and falls even deeper.

\---

It's been so long since San has done this.

Strolling the streets without a destination in mind, glancing around, listening for hearts to eat, especially in broad daylight. He even travels to the more secluded areas of town, possibly even traveling over to the next one over. He expands his horizons, hones his senses, and even then, he hears nothing.

Just regular, everyday heartbeats.

He figures that if the killer were anywhere near, he would be able to hear their heart, even though he doesn't know how far his senses can go.

When the sun dips past the buildings and the silver moon rises, he even soars from rooftop to rooftop, cloaking himself in the night sky while the city lights illuminate the streets below him. He doesn't know exactly how much or how far he travels, but he definitely covers more ground than he used to. Still, nothing.

Perhaps the killer is nowhere near the area.

"San."

"What is it, Seonghwa?" San turns around to see the reaper standing behind him, poised as ever.

"That is a very convincing disguise."

"Well, duh. But anyway, let me guess, you're here to ask how the hunt is going." Seonghwa nods. "I hear nothing. I've been out and about all day, walking and flying everywhere, and I heard no evil heartbeat whatsoever."

Seonghwa nods, eyebrows creased. "It is impossible to tell whether the killer will come by here or not. While I cannot tell an evil heartbeat from a normal one, I will be sure to keep my eyes out as well."

"Oh, right, I forgot to tell you," San says, remembering the news from the other day. "Remember Jaewon, the guy I attacked who killed his sister and ended up in prison? He killed himself in there."

Seonghwa hums. "I see. His soul must have been reaped by someone else, then, because I did not sense anything." He pulls out his phone and taps at the screen. San watches in confusion but doesn't say anything. "I am seeing if there is any news I can find on that situation."

"What news could there be? He killed himself, that's it."

"He could have left a note. Ah." Seonghwa steps forward and shows the article on his screen to San. "He did. I suppose you knew nothing about this since you did not bring it up."

There's a photo of Jaewon's note, crumpled up and unfurled written in barely legible handwriting. San has to admit, however, that he did a pretty good job for someone with no eyes. There's even a transcript below it. The authorities must have been able to decipher it.

_Red. That's all I can remember. Red red red. Everything red. I think it was my blood. Eyes. Something. Eyes. My heart. I can feel it slipping away. But that's what it wanted, right? It wanted me dead, but it made me live. I want to die. I am truly on the brink of death like this. That's what it wanted. It. It. The thing that attacked me. It was red. It wants me dead. I want me dead. It wants my heart. I will give it. Minha, Minjun, forgive me._

"Minjun?" San reads over the unfamiliar name. "Who's that?"

"Perhaps another sibling, or a friend," Seonghwa suggests, taking his phone back and tapping away at it again. "Based on Jaewon's note, it sound as if his memory loss drove him to his suicide. He could remember bits and pieces, but not everything, which must have tortured him mentally. He knew something attacked him and wanted him dead, which anybody could deduce from his wounds, but... what struck me was his comment about his heart. He said 'it wants my heart.'"

San shrugs, chuckling. "I wouldn't be surprised if my living victims' memories return just before they die. Imagine that, being unable to remember what happened to you until the moment just before you die. It must have been like that for him."

"He _did_ say 'I am truly on the brink of death like this.' Perhaps suicide was on his mind all along."

Seconds later, Seonghwa's mouth parts as he hands his phone back to San once more. "Look."

An article written about the death of Yang Minha.

San doesn't read it. Instead, he looks at the picture.

A young woman who couldn't be older than twenty-five with short brown hair and a pale complexion. "Minha," San says in a hushed voice, feeling something uneasy brush over his skin. He feels as if he is staring back at himself. "Yang Minha, Jaewon's sister."

"Do you think this killer could be targeting women who look like Jaewon's sister?" Seonghwa asks.

"If that's the case... who could it be? Obviously this person would have to know about Jaewon, right?"

"It is too soon to draw conclusions, but if that is the case, then your disguise is crucial to catching this killer," Seonghwa says with a stone-cold expression and a firm voice. He takes his phone back and shoves it back into his pocket.

"Don't worry, Seonghwa. I don't plan on abandoning this plan. If anything, this new information is motivating me even more. In all my years of existence, I don't think I've ever been tangled up in such a case like this."

Seonghwa makes a noise of amusement. "It is possible that whoever this killer is knows Jaewon. They knew Jaewon was suffering while in prison, and perhaps they are carrying out these murders in some sick, twisted way of justice."

"That isn't justice. It's just insanity," San snorts. "If this person knows Jaewon, they're just as insane as him for wanting to carry out these murders in his name."

And apparently, in San's as well. Posing as the Heart-Ripping Killer. As amusing as the title is to San, he still can't help but feel irritated at someone trying to attach his title to such heinous crimes, mauling innocent women who'd done nothing to deserve it. What San delivers is true justice. He is not carrying out petty murders in another murderer's name.

Whoever this is, San will take them down. He will bring them to justice, just like he did Jaewon. Dongsuk. The man before, and the countless before him.

That is San's purpose, the reason he was reborn. He will make what he wishes of it.

\---

San has to admit that separating himself from Wooyoung is no easy feat. Of course, he'll occasionally visit the university while Wooyoung is in class just to make sure his heart is still beating. But for the time being, until the killer is revealed, San figures that it would be best for him to continue his search without Wooyoung.

As the days go by, San grows more and more irritated. The killer has not murdered since Kyungsoo, and there is no sign of an evil heartbeat anywhere. He knows his search is not pointless, but he can't help but wonder if this is being blown out of proportion. That he is worrying for nothing.

Fed up, San stops by Wooyoung's place on a Friday night after the Nth day of trying to track down the killer. Wooyoung opens the door, his attire resembling the outfit he'd worn the night they first met.

"San! What are you doing here?" Wooyoung asks with a bright smile, instantly pulling San in for a hug. The embrace that San has missed so much.

"I, um... the search has been pretty dead, so I figured I'd stop by."

"Oh, San!" Yunho's voice calls from inside. Good thing he's in his normal form. "Haven't seen you in a while! We were just about to head to the club if you'd like the join us. You know, the one where Wooyoung got into trouble? Wait, did Woo ever tell you about that? Apparently some dude tried to choke him out with a studded leather belt!"

And of course, how could San forget? That fateful night where Wooyoung was nearly strangled to death, slid his way into San's existence, and stole his unbeating heart. "Oh, of course. Um, I didn't have any other plans tonight, but—"

"Come on, San!" Wooyoung urges, hand still locked in his. He's beaming at him with lined eyes and glittery cheeks, so _beautiful_ , San thinks. Wooyoung leans in and whispers, "For old time's sake."

It's as if Wooyoung doesn't have any regard for the events that truly transpired that night. That it didn't matter that he was almost killed. It's as if Wooyoung viewed that night as something entirely different, and if San is being honest, he sees it the exact same way. The night they met. The night that San saved him.

And hell, who is San to say no? The search has been uneventful; he can spare one night for old time's sake.

"You already look good, anyway," Wooyoung says. "No need to get ready. Come on, let's go!"

Even for a human, Wooyoung moves fast. He's grabbing San's hand with vigor and boundless energy, tugging him along down the street as Yunho and Mingi trail behind them.

San wonders how Wooyoung is feeling. It's like he's been hit with a newfound confidence, an energy that San hasn't seen in him before. He's smiling so much more, even more beautiful than the thousands of sunsets and sunrises San has viewed from the rooftops, smiles that have never looked so ethereal on another human being, smiles that San never thought he would ever fall for.

He looks at Wooyoung with eyes that probably spell out in bright bold italic letters, _I'm in love with you_ , but those words have remained unspoken. It's not the time.

San hopes that there _will_ come a time.

\---

San hasn't been to this club since that night. Now that he's back, he can't help but feel this pleasant wave of nostalgia wash over him. The night he'd come disguised as Haneul. How Wooyoung, nervous but brave, had inadvertently 'saved' him from drinking a drugged glass of whatever it was. Impressed by his courage, San had indulged in him, and he did not disappoint.

Instead, he made San fall for him.

"Get any drink you want," San tells him with a wink and a brief flash of scarlet eyes. Wooyoung chuckles and rests his head on San's shoulder.

"Surprise me."

So San surprises him with a Cosmopolitan, whatever that tastes like. He likes the name of it. With the bartender at his mercy, San can get whatever Wooyoung wants. With _everybody_ at his mercy, he could take over this whole club if he wanted to.

San has never been one for dancing or partaking in whatever club or partygoers do. He only comes to these sorts of scenes to lure in the evil, but Wooyoung, in all of his tipsy glory from three mixed drinks, is tugging him towards the dance floor underneath flashing lights and glitter, wrapping his arms around his neck and leaning in, and there's no way San can resist. He lets Wooyoung connect their lips in a passionate kiss, one that San can't taste but can _feel._ Wooyoung's lips are soft, _warm_ , undeniably him.

Over the obnoxious bass and a multitude of heartbeats that create an auditory earthquake in San's ears, Wooyoung's own heartbeat is what brings him down. That one heart that stands out above the rest. Intoxicates him. Lures _him_ in.

Under these lights, the shimmering that brings out the glitter on Wooyoung's cheeks and the eternal beauty of his eyes, San wants to tell Wooyoung that he loves him.

"Sannie," Wooyoung gasps as he pulls away, lips barely lingering above his. "I'm glad you came tonight."

"I-I am too."

Wooyoung keeps his forehead against San's but recedes from his lips. "To think you were somebody else when I first met you. Haneul."

"Right, Haneul."

_Say it, San._

"It's still you, though, San."

_Say it._

Wooyoung pulls his forehead away, looking at San as if he's the only person in the entire club. "You could've left me for dead, and you didn't."

_Wooyoung, you are so beautiful._

Wooyoung chuckles, hands tightening around the back of San's neck. "You _saved_ me, San. Twice. And you stayed with me, hung out with me, treated me like I was the only person in the world. You... you gave me confidence that I never thought I would have. And for that, I am so, so thankful."

_I love you._

"Thank you, San."

_Wooyoung, I love you. I love you so much._

"Heeeeey, Wooyoungie!" Yunho's slurred words boom from somewhere close by. It's not even ten seconds later and Yunho is lunging forward with the strength of a thousand men, both of his arms landing around Wooyoung's chest. "Come on, join us for our pole routine!"

Clearly startled, Wooyoung whirls around. "What? I've never—" He doesn't even get another coherent word out before Yunho is yanking his arm in the direction of the poled platforms, away from San, but San figures this is what he gets for being a coward.

He couldn't even say it out loud.

Annoyed, he turns back to the bar where he sees a very familiar face. He's frowning deeply as he approaches the reaper, who looks unperturbed as usual. "San."

"What the hell are you doing here?" San exclaims over the music.

"The news has not reached anybody yet, but San, there has been another victim. It was... in the exact same alleyway you killed Dongsuk."

" _What_?"

Seonghwa glances around, fingers just above the bulge of his phone in his pocket. "I took pictures like I normally do, but I do not think this is the appropriate location to show you. If it is okay with you, I can take you to see the body. However, the killer is still in the area, be mindful of that."

"But Wooyoung—"

"It is up to you, San. Just know that wherever this killer is, it is near. This could be your chance to kill them."

San glances over at the platforms, where Yunho and Mingi are grinding against a pole with poor Wooyoung sandwiched between them. All of them have drunken smiles plastered on their faces, appearing as if they're all having a good time, and San doesn't want to take that away from him. The last night Wooyoung had been here, he'd been lonesome at the bar, staring at his friends from a distance with a look of some sort of longing, as if he wished to be as bold as his friends on the pole, and now, he finally is.

He sighs, turning back to Seonghwa.

"Take me there."

\---

The alleyway is much farther away than San remembers it to be, but there's no mistaking it. It's the exact same alleyway, with no light whatsoever besides the sad excuse for a street lamp at the entrance. On the way, San had taken the appearance of Minha in hopes of capturing the killer's attention, striding beside Seonghwa, and still, no sign of an evil heartbeat. Just regular ones.

Seonghwa turns on his phone flashlight and shines it above the body.

Seeing it as a photo on a screen is one thing. To be standing above a human body ripped apart, intestines and other internal organs hanging out the sides, blood splattered beneath and around the body... it's a whole other thing. San stares at it with anger bubbling up in his gut. This is not his work, and how _dare_ this killer try to call it as such.

This isn't a body, San thinks. This is a heap of blood, organs, and bones.

"Do you know when this could have happened?" San asks, glancing over at Seonghwa's phone screen. The time reads 11:37.

"I reaped this person's soul about an hour ago. I would imagine the murder took place around then as well. I did not hear any heartbeats by the time I arrived, however, so the killer must have been able to escape fairly quickly."

"Shit," San mutters, crouching down at the body.

Surely enough, the heart has gone missing. He imagines it used to beat purely, innocently, just like Wooyoung's. He wonders what this person looked like, if they had been another Minha lookalike, if this is what the killer is even going for.

"San," Seonghwa says in a much softer tone. "I saw that you were in a very intimate moment with Wooyoung back there. I apologize if I interrupted it."

San scoffs. "His friends did it before I saw you. I didn't want to intrude on Wooyoung's fun, though. He's been so happy lately, like he's come out of his shell, and he... he thanked _me_ for it." San smiles, head hanging as he closes his eyes. "I think he's happier than he was before. Whether it was because of me or not, I don't know, but—"

San's eyes shoot open. He looks up at Seonghwa, who shares the same look of alert as him.

There's a heartbeat approaching. Two, actually. One of them is unrecognizable. It beats erratically, quickly, but it sounds like that of an athlete, someone running, more than an evil person.

The other is unmistakably Wooyoung's.

"San, you hear those heartbeats, right?" Seonghwa asks, brows furrowed.

San stands warily, the body forgotten. "One of them is Wooyoung's," he murmurs.

"And the other?"

The heartbeats intensify. The waves of Wooyoung's heart are crashing as if being stirred up by a storm. He's either running, nervous, or angry. Could be all of the above.

"San! Seonghwa! Where'd you guys go?"

"Did he follow us?" Seonghwa wonders aloud.

With Seonghwa's phone's flashlight and the poor excuse for a street lamp being their only sources of light, Wooyoung's form is barely recognizable as it appears at the entrance of the alleyway. Almost instinctively, he turns his head towards the murder scene as if his memories incited him to. "San, Seonghwa, are you guys down there?" he shouts in a hushed voice.

"We're here!" San calls back in an equally hushed voice. "Wooyoung, don't come down here, it's not pretty!"

But Wooyoung is already making cautious steps into the darkness, and distracted by the sight of his lover, San had forgotten about the extra heartbeat. It grows louder, thumping in San's ears.

As a demon, San's reflexes are quicker than human's. His abilities surpass anything a human is capable of. However, as he's come to realize, not everything about him is perfect and polished. A human managed to take him down, make him fall, and gave him emotions and sensations that he didn't even know he could feel. There are plenty of things his powers _can't_ do, but overall, San can do whatever he needs to make humanity bend in his favor.

However, he does not have super speed. Distracted by his lover and the need to protect him, somehow, his sensations freeze for a very few crucial moments, before footsteps accompanying the unidentified heartbeat finally reveal themselves in the form of another human, racing towards Wooyoung from behind, and the next thing San knows, his lover is flat on the pavement, and his claws are soaked through with blood.

" _Who are you_?" San snarls, his voices fusing into a distorted choir of hellish noise. The killer's shirt is bunched up in his fists, both of their mouths stained with blood, and the human just _smiles_ , reminding San of one he knew very well.

Jaewon.

"My name... is Yang Minjun."

_"Minha, Minjun, forgive me."_

"And now, Heart-Ripping Killer, take me to my siblings. Please."

With an inferno burning behind San's eyes, jet-black claws fully extended and mouth wide open in a rabid roar, he plunges his hand straight through Minjun's chest, obliterating his heart as he crushes it between his fingers.

It had not been the heart of an evil.

It had been the heart of a human tortured by grief and despair, tormented to the point of insanity.

San never believed in the notion that heartbeats could change, but perhaps there is a first for everything, even this.

Shoving Minjun's body away from him, San crawls towards Wooyoung's, whose limp body is being cradled in Seonghwa's arms. The reaper immediately passes him over onto San's lap, handling him in such a way that he could shatter at any point, and in this case, he just might.

"San, he is bleeding out," Seonghwa says. "Minjun struck a major artery through his back. He does not have long, and I do not think we can get him help in time."

"Isn't there something we can do?" San cries, staring down at Wooyoung's blank eyes and bloody mouth as he wheezes for a single breath of air. His heart beats weakly, weaker than ever before. "God fucking _damnit_! Out of all the things I can do, why can't I fucking heal?"

"San," Wooyoung says, spluttering.

_Wooyoung, please. Don't... don't waste your breath. Talk to me. Talk to me here._

Wooyoung's eyelids flutter, mouth parting as another drop of blood trickles out of it.

_I don't want to die, San._

San squeezes his eyes shut, gently placing his hand, his human hand, over Wooyoung's heart. Its waves are stilling.

_I know, Wooyoung. I know._

_This must have been what you felt like when you died, San. I'm scared._

San bites the inside of his lip, _hard._ The blood around his mouth isn't his. But the blood soaking his arm all belongs to Minjun, and the blood seeping into the fabric of his jeans is his lover's.

He is covered in the blood of people who just wanted chances at life.

"San," Seonghwa says. "Remember the text about the rebirth of demons."

How could he forget it?

"'On extremely rare occasions, Plane and Earth Walkers may be born from an excessive amount of other emotions that are not necessarily negative, such as love, yearning, or an unyielding desire to live,'" Seonghwa recites.

"No," San says, shaking his head. Something wet drips from it. "He will _not_ be reborn as a demon. I won't let him. I won't!"

_San. Please._

"No, Wooyoung! I am not going to make you exist as a demon!"

"San, there is a chance he could be reborn as one anyway," Seonghwa says, his voice wavering in a way San has never heard before. It trembles. Seonghwa, the reaper who has been nothing but calm and collected, his voice is shaking.

"Then reap his soul, Seonghwa. Do _not_ let him be reborn as a demon!"

_San, please. Remember what I said? If I could be a demon and live with you forever, I would._

"I can't... put you through that." San lowers his head, resting his forehead above his hand on Wooyoung's chest. "I can't let you exist in nothingness. Souls should _move on_ , Wooyoung. I don't want you to be like me."

His heart is skipping beats, like stones hopping on calm water. It beats erratically, but it beats feebly.

It is the beat of a dying heart.

His lungs are stuttering as they struggle for air. Their song is reaching a conclusion that fades out, unresolved and quiet, and there is no sequel.

"Seonghwa," Wooyoung croaks. His voice no longer sounds like him. "Don't do it. Don't reap my soul. Don't... let anybody reap it. Let it go. Let my soul be free."

"Wooyoung, enough!"

"San," Seonghwa says firmly, the harshness of his tone taking him aback. "If this is what Wooyoung wishes, if this is what he _truly_ wants, then I will respect it. He is not doing this to be selfish, San. He is doing this because he loves you."

San looks into Wooyoung's eyes that were once jubilant, filled to the brim with a newfangled happiness because of _him._ A single corner of his mouth twitches in a dying attempt to smile. "He's right." He blinks, eyelids heavy. "I love you, San. And I want to be with you forever."

San wanted to tell Wooyoung he loves him underneath luminescence and beauty. In a bed after they've made love, on the university campus once class is over. Anywhere but a dingy alley, body painted with blood, with Wooyoung taking his last few breaths.

_You saved me twice, San. Save me again._

Here, in this spot, the alleyway where San saved him the first time, he can save him again, but is it _truly_ saving him?

"There is not much time, San," Seonghwa says. "I can make sure his soul is not reaped, and I can tell you when I can no longer sense it. After that, however, I do not know what will happen."

San's face is damp with something. Blood, perhaps. His eyes are swollen from anger, his body is shaking violently, and he can't breathe. It hurts.

This must be what pain feels like, he thinks.

"I love you," San whispers, though his voice quivers as his chest continues to twist in knots, his throat constricting around itself. "I love you too, Wooyoung."

Raising his head, he gazes into Wooyoung's eyes, red burning into a fading brown.

"Remember me, Wooyoung. Find me _._ "

As the blood on San's face dries, somewhere, an ocean's waves come to a standstill, and a song reaches its conclusion much too soon. Somewhere, a corpse in complete decay weeps unknowingly as another one of its chances is dealt. Somewhere, a soul travels into a mystery at the hands of fate, its future unknown.

"San." Seonghwa crouches by San's side. "You have to go. I will make sure his soul is not reaped."

"What do we do?" San asks flatly, eyes fixed on the brick wall ahead of him. It too is stained with blood. "What do we do with his body?"

"I will let you decide on that," Seonghwa says. "If you wish to dispose of Wooyoung's body, he will be pronounced missing and perhaps dead. If we leave him, he will be pronounced certainly dead. What I can do is stay behind and erase Wooyoung's evidence and tamper with the memories of the authorities once they arrive, and Wooyoung will be pronounced missing. Whatever the case... if Wooyoung is reborn a demon, all we can do is wait."

San refuses to look down, though he gently slides his hand over Wooyoung's eyes, closing them. "I'll... get rid of his body. You, erase the evidence. If Wooyoung does come back... his friends, everyone who knew him, deserves to know. They deserve to have him back, even if he is a demon."

Seonghwa nods. "There is no telling where in the world he will end up, San. It could be _years_ before he turns up, if at all."

"I don't care," San mutters through a clenched jaw. "Even if he's pronounced dead... even if he can never return to his life as a human, we could just erase everyone's memories. I don't care what happens, as long as he returns to me."

Seonghwa nods again and stands, glancing around. "Come on, San. You must get going."

San has to remind himself that he is a demon. He has seen countless dead bodies. He has no need to grieve or feel whatever this is. He has to move, get Wooyoung's body somewhere it can't be found. He has to get somewhere _he_ can't be found.

His knees are weak as he stands. His all-powerful body has never felt so exhausted. With one last look at the pallid face of his lover, San inhales, and launches himself up into the night.

\---

The flames dance in the back of San's memory as he holds Wooyoung's heart to his chest. The heart which once beat like a waves upon a shore. The heart that beat so innocently, that belonged to someone who was too good for a world periled by evil. Who was a victim to said evil.

Now, it beats no more.

San has never handled a heart so delicately.

With his back to a desolate rooftop, he lays there, Wooyoung's unbeating heart against his own, as he gazes up at the infinite sunrises and sunsets, listening to the chaos below him. Seonghwa visits him daily and gives him updates. He tells San that Wooyoung was pronounced missing and that they are searching for his body, but it will never be found. He suggests San keeps moving, to continue to feed. To hold Wooyoung's heart dearly and wait for the day he might return.

San does so, because he knows he cannot lay upon that same rooftop forever. He will search for Wooyoung just as he searched for the person who killed him. And he will not stop until he knows.

Until then, he will trek the Earth with Wooyoung's heart. He will take a part of Wooyoung to places he never got the chance to visit. He will feed on the hearts of people just like the one who killed him. He will continue his empty existence until the day he knows Wooyoung's fate.

And if Wooyoung's fate has long been decided, if his soul has vanished somewhere in the universe, if he will not return, then neither will San.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OOOOOO A CLIFFHANGER EVEN THOUGH PEOPLE CAN PROBABLY FIGURE OUT WHAT'S GONNA HAPPENNNN
> 
> if you couldn't already tell, this chapter was pretty rushed and i apologize for that. it's probably pretty shit but eh.
> 
> i have another woosan longfic in the works btw if y'all wanna check it out. it's a lot less bloody than this one lol
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/galaxysangs)


	11. ūndecim

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here we go, part one to the epilogue!! this is mostly just narration with some references to prior events. there's some minor descriptions of blood and gore though

**[my love]**

_hey, i just saw you leave with seonghwa??? where did you guys go???_

_im leaving the club now can you text me when you get this please_

_did something happen_

_oh my god did the pseudo killer strike again?????_

_jesus you guys move fast where are you??_

_can you hear me?? im calling your names_

_sorry for bombarding you with texts im just really worried_

_please text me when you get these_

_holy shit are you guys where i think you guys are?? wow this really is a trip for old time's sake huh_

With a clenched jaw, San reads the texts over and over, his chest tightening. He's read them over so many times for who knows how long. He doesn't know how long it's been. Seonghwa is by his side, just like the reaper promised he would be, but not a single word is spoken between them. He watches San grieve every day and gives him any updates he picks up on while the authorities investigate the deaths of the third victim and the killer himself, as well as the disappearance of his lover.

The days are starting to blur again.

Without Wooyoung, days and nights pass in what seems like seconds. San does nothing. When he looks up at the night sky, all he can see is Wooyoung's bloodstained face burning in the moon. He closes his eyes, and he still sees it.

Even with Wooyoung's heart clutched to his chest, he feels no relief.

One night, San is lying with his back to a roof when Seonghwa's feet appear by his head. The reaper doesn't sit.

"They found a note left by Minjun at his old place," Seonghwa says. San doesn't even bother looking up. "He was in contact with Jaewon while he was in prison, and Jaewon would tell him about his memories, how he saw red, how his attacker sought his heart. And apparently, insanity runs in the family. Minjun came to the conclusion that the Heart-Ripping Killer was the one who attacked Jaewon, so he started copying the killings in order to bring them out."

San rolls his eyes and scoffs. "I guess he was betting on being killed," he muses. "And his victims all looked like their sister. You're right, insanity does run in their family, it seems. I wonder what Minha was like."

"I would imagine Jaewon was truly the evil out of the three of them. Minha was most likely innocent. Minjun was driven mad. In his note, he mentioned that Jaewon said they would all be reunited one day, so I assume at this point Jaewon was already planning his suicide. This, plus the theory that the Heart-Ripping killer was the one who attacked his brother, was what drove him to commit these crimes."

"He didn't have to completely _butcher_ his victims," San spits.

"That is true. But there is something that has been troubling me. How were you not able to detect the evil of Minjun's heartbeat?"

San presses his lips together, eyes squeezing shut at the sour memory.

_One night, Wooyoung told me that if his heartbeat ever changed, to leave him. I didn't think heartbeats could change. I guess they really can. Had Minjun kept killing, his heartbeat would have turned evil too._

Seonghwa crouches down next to him. San swallows the words he wasn't able to say out loud. He doesn't dare speak Wooyoung's name. "You are saying his heart was not evil from the beginning, correct?"

San nods. "I've come to the conclusion that nobody is born inherently good or evil. Things happen and shape people over time. People and their heartbeats change. Perhaps Jaewon wasn't born with an evil heart, but something twisted it and made it that way. I guess... sometimes, all people need to turn evil is a push. A motive."

"Do you think some people were born _to_ be evil? And if so, do you think others were born to be good?"

With Wooyoung's heart in one hand and his phone in the other, San closes his eyes and crushes his phone into bits and pieces of glass and metal. "I don't care anymore," he mutters. He's tired. He's exhausted. He's fed up.

If he could go to sleep and not wake up until Wooyoung appears by his side again, he would.

And if Wooyoung never does, then may he sleep forever.

***

It wakes with a start, its body curled in on itself, rear sitting upon a jagged platform. Its eyes open, weary and dry as its body manifests, limbs twitching as if to wake the creature up further. Its head lolls back as its limbs unfold, limp against the rocky terrain. Its head jerks, eyes blinking as they regain sight. The echoing of dripping water reverberates around it. Its head turns from side to side, observing its surroundings.

_How did it get here?_

An invisible force lifts it into the air, its body now fully extended as its eyesight fully returns. A cavern. There's an exit. It's dark everywhere.

Curiously, the creature tilts its head as it floats outside, gazing out at the glowing sphere in the sky. Everywhere it looks, there's a blanket of white. Below it is a sharp decline with more white and jagged earth.

The more it sees, the more it retains. A breeze rustles the trees around it. Its head twitches again.

_Hunger._

There's a sound somewhere. It echoes even more than the dripping water. It's some sort of thumping. Thud after thud, the beat draws the creature forward, down the sharp decline, onto another layer of white.

There's another creature on four legs with tannish fur, curved horns protruding from the head. It glances up curiously.

 _Thud_. _Thump._

It surges forward, giving the animal no time to escape, and tears into its flesh, a flash of fur and red. Sinking its claws deep within the animal's chest, it seeks the source of the beautiful sound it heard.

The _thing,_ the red lump of flesh, beats one last time before ceasing completely, and the creature plunges its fangs into it, devouring the red mass and letting out a deep sigh of relief.

Twitch after twitch, it slowly remembers.

It glances down. Its body is draped in tattered clothes, _black._ The skin of its arms and legs are covered in dark smudges of an unknown substance. The glowing ball in the night sky is called the moon. What the creature had eaten is called a heart.

It slowly descends the mountain.

_The mountain._

A noise gurgles in its throat. Words. It remembers.

"Remember..." It comes out as a mere rasp. "Remember... remember..."

It coughs. Nothing comes out.

"Remember... me," it speaks. Its own voice is unfamiliar. Everything is unfamiliar.

Once its feet finally land at the base of the mountain, it speaks again. "Remember me. Find me."

_But what do those words mean?_

It puts its legs one foot in front of another, walking. Its head continues to twitch with each step, the words _remember_ and _find_ repeating over and over somewhere in the distance. Perhaps it is in its own head. It can't tell.

It traverses the rugged landscape surrounded by nothing but trees and _snow._ All around it are the heartbeats of the living. The _living._

It places its hand upon its own chest. It feels and hears nothing.

"Remember, remember."

No matter how many times it repeats itself, it cannot remember.

One foot in front of the other, it walks.

***

Evil hearts don't taste the same anymore.

Of course, it satisfies his hunger. It gives him what he needs to keep on existing despite finding no substance in it anymore. He doesn't even bother leaving the bodies anymore. He simply disposes of them with Seonghwa's help, leaving no trace of evidence pointing towards any 'Heart-Ripping Killer.' San isn't that anymore. He's simply doing what he needs to do to survive.

He will go until he can't fast anymore, feed, dispose, and repeat. Even with the disappearances being reported, San notices that they aren't being claimed 'Heart-Ripping Killer' victims anymore.

They are reported as missing, just like Wooyoung was, but San knows very well that isn't the truth.

Wooyoung isn't missing, but he isn't dead either. San refuses to believe it.

As long as he has what's left of Wooyoung in the palm of his hands, he will continue to hope that one day, Wooyoung will return to him.

***

"Remember me. Find me."

It repeats these words to itself constantly, wherever its feet travel. The first civilization it comes across is a small village surrounded by crops and cultivation. The two-legged creatures have hearts in their chests as well.

At the ensemble of heartbeats, its senses blur. Its sight, its hearing, _everything_ disappears in a single moment of internal frenzy, and in that manic rampage, blood is splattered across the crops, skin is ripped from bones, and hearts pile up inside the creature's stomach.

It doesn't stop until the sounds cease entirely.

Drenched in blood, it ventures onward.

***

San always wondered what his heart would sound like if it beat. Now, standing at the front door to Wooyoung's old apartment, he imagines it would be like thunder. He doesn't know how long it's been since Wooyoung died, and in turn, he doesn't know how long it's been since he's come face-to-face with Wooyoung's old roommates. As soon as Wooyoung disappeared from their lives, so did he.

Both of them greet him at the door.

"San?" Yunho's voice is incredulous, immensely so. "Holy shit. San... where have you been? Do you know where Wooyoung is?" He grows increasingly frantic as he lets the demon in. Mingi steps aside immediately.

He's not here to tell a sob story. He's here for a reason.

Biting his lip, he locks his eyes on theirs.

"Wooyoung never existed," he says, and the words sting on his tongue. "Only... only if you see his face again will you remember him. Unless that happens, he never existed, and neither did I."

He shoves past them as they stand frozen in a daze.

There's something wet on his face, which he promptly wipes away. It happens a lot actually, something that San has never experienced prior to losing Wooyoung. He swallows hard. Pain creeps up on him more often.

Ever since that night, he's felt pain. He knows what it feels like now.

For him, pain doesn't come with a bleeding wound or a hard fall onto concrete. Pain comes with remembering Wooyoung's face, the human he loved with his entire existence, as his heart stopped in his arms. Pain comes with knowing that his body is now ashes, and that his heart and San's, Seonghwa's, and even Yeosang's memories are the only things of him that remain.

San knows for a fact that there is no God. He does, however, know there is a demon of higher power somewhere out there. There has to be. The text was its legacy.

And so he prays to the only higher being he knows that Wooyoung comes back to him.

***

The sun and moon both rise and set constantly. All the while, the creature walks in all sorts of directions, but never finds another civilization like the one it ravaged. It feeds on the hearts of other living creatures, but its hunger is only sated for a brief period of time. When the sun rises, it will feed on a deer. When the sun sets, it will feed on another.

As days and nights come and go, it repeats the only words it remembers.

"Remember me. Find me."

With weary eyes, it comes to a halt at a towering tree that is on the verge of full ruin, falling into the trunk and letting its forehead collide with the bark. Some of it crumbles to the dead leaves beneath its feet. It sighs.

In a moment of silence, the words play themselves again.

_"Remember me, Wooyoung."_

_Wooyoung?_

The creature jerks its head up, turning left to right. There are no heartbeats, no signs of anything around it.

What does 'Wooyoung' mean?

Then, there's a rustle from beside it. Its claws emerge instinctively, fangs barred, until a soothing voice resonates in its ears.

"Calm yourself, demon."

_Demon?_

A figure appears from behind a neighboring tree, poised with its hands behind its back. The creature takes a cautious step back, its weapons still drawn. Even though the figure speaks, even though it walks on two legs, its appearance is nothing like that of the beings it had come across in the village. Under the moonlight's glare, its skin is so pale that it practically glows, but its _eyes_ quite visibly do, an unnatural shade of amber.

Its mouth curves upward. "What are you?" the creature asks the stranger.

"I am a demon, just like you," it speaks. Its voice is deep and unfamiliar. "While I don't have the power to return your memories, I can guide you in the right direction."

"What do you mean?" the creature asks.

"I know who you are, but you must not know who I am. Tell me... do you remember the name 'Wooyoung?'"

_Name? Wooyoung?_

"Name... is that... your name?"

The stranger shakes his head and smiles. "No, Wooyoung. It's yours. I knew you, once. I didn't know you would return a demon."

"Then who are you? What is your name?" the creature, _Wooyoung_ , asks.

The stranger simply laughs, its own canines poking through its lips. "Unfortunately, I don't think you'd remember me. But I will say this, Wooyoung. Someone very important is looking for you. He's waiting for the day you return."

_He?_

"Unfortunately, I don't know exactly where he is at this very moment. I left the area a long time ago after your death, been wandering around nature all over the country since then, so I don't know exactly what he's up to, and if I'm being quite honest, I don't know exactly where I am either."

_"Find me."_

What used to be words spoken by a voiceless whisper has now begun to form, melding together to become a coherent voice. It is still unrecognizable, but it's nothing like the indistinguishable clash of noises Wooyoung used to hear.

"I keep hearing this voice," Wooyoung says. "It says, 'Remember me. Find me.'"

The stranger closes his eyes, smile softening. "Those were his last words to you. I'm surprised you remember them."

"Who is this person you speak of?" Wooyoung asks impatiently.

"His name is San," the stranger speaks. "And my apologies, Wooyoung. You didn't even get to see me when you were human, and now, you don't even remember my name. Ha! Well, allow me to tell you, then. My name is Yeosang. I am a demon, just like you."

"A demon?"

Yeosang hasn't stopped smiling. He steps towards Wooyoung with a confident stride, amber eyes continuing to glisten even in the dark night. "Yes, a demon. Put your trust in me, Wooyoung. I will explain everything you need to know, and I will do my best to get you back to San."

Something about Yeosang has Wooyoung very intrigued. He doesn't remember Yeosang in the slightest, but perhaps it's something in the way he speaks, his mannerisms, that make him feel inclined to trust the mysterious stranger. Either way, he lets Yeosang slot his arm in between his and guide him out of the trees and onto an open field instead.

"So, Wooyoung, you're a demon now, but you were once human, actually."

"What's the difference?"

Yeosang lets out a soft chuckle, followed by a long sigh.

"This is going to take a while. Good thing we live forever."

***

Neither San nor Seonghwa knows how long it's been since Wooyoung's heart stopped. To San's surprise, the organ is still intact. He doesn't know how that's possible, considering it's technically comprised of living cells that need nourishment to stay functioning, but it's still a vibrant red even though blood no longer pumps through it. It's a mysterious phenomenon, but San doesn't think it's particularly significant.

He's made his rounds and made sure that anyone who was close to Wooyoung no longer remembered him. He remembers how terrified Hongjoong and his group of friends had looked when they saw him for the first time since the news of Wooyoung's disappearance started circulating. They'd seemed so lost. Yoonji nearly burst into tears.

San took it all away. He made sure that there would be no more tears shed over Wooyoung. He'd wiped all the memories of Wooyoung's friends, one of the most heartbreaking things he's ever had to do, because Wooyoung once loved these people, and they loved him back. San wasn't the only one who treated him like a human being.

But it had to be done.

Wooyoung's old friends can't live their chances weighed down by guilt if San can help it. So he does.

Through questioning and connections, San manages to track down Wooyoung's family. He traces Wooyoung's every step, from family to work to school to the authorities handling his case, and with Seonghwa's help, he erases Wooyoung from human existence entirely.

It's exhausting.

And now, on the rooftop of a building in a province that San doesn't even know, he holds Wooyoung's heart in the palm of his hand, mourning the fact that Wooyoung's human existence is now dead and gone with the rest of him.

\---

One day, Wooyoung's heart beats.

It catches San off guard. In this particularly busy province, a bustling city with colorful nightlife, car horns blaring and live music playing, in the palm of his hand, Wooyoung's heart twitches. He sits up with a jolt, glancing from side to side as Wooyoung's heart pulses.

Frowning, he watches it beat its familiar ocean waves. In his hearing, he can imagine it being paired with his lungs singing a symphony. He smiles sadly, rising to his feet as the organ only continues to pick up speed.

He watches it in affliction until its speed begins to increase, beating abnormally fast in his hand, and his melancholia soon transforms into bewilderment. A heart shouldn't beat this fast. Hell, a heart on its own shouldn't _beat._

San has never heard a human heart beat this fast. At this rate, it doesn't even sound like Wooyoung's anymore.

And then, it bursts.

There's no blood. It's as if the organ simply disintegrates, disappears into thin air. There's nothing left on San's palm, no remnants of Wooyoung's heart, _nothing._

His heart is gone.

Wooyoung is gone.

Will Wooyoung only exist as a memory now?

Will Wooyoung only continue to be a part of San's mental imagery? Pictures and memories in his head of Wooyoung's unapologetic beauty, the _feelings_ he'd experienced while Wooyoung was around, the way Wooyoung would clap whenever he ate good food, the way Wooyoung would ramble on about topics that San never fully understood, how adorable Wooyoung had looked in that pink sweater-overalls combination...

They will be mere memories now. Memories San can't get back.

San knows demons don't feel physical pain, but the thought makes him feel like his own heart has been ripped from his chest.

San closes his eyes.

"San?"

It's like he can remember Wooyoung's voice as if it were only yesterday.

With one last glance out at the brightest city skyline he's ever laid eyes upon, San turns around and is greeted with an unbelievable sight.

The voice was not a memory.

"San, is that you?"

Standing beside a familiar face is none other than his dead and gone lover. San hasn't seen those glowing amber eyes in what feels like forever, but there he is, with an elated grin on his face, and he, in all his pallid glory, stands next to Wooyoung.

"You're San... right?" Wooyoung speaks.

It's Wooyoung. Wooyoung is speaking to him. His mind must be playing tricks on him.

"Found him wandering the forest across the country," Yeosang says, clearly amused. "I was surprised. I vaguely knew of what happened because Seonghwa told me, but I really didn't expect to run into him there. According to him, he popped into existence inside a cave on a mountain."

San gawks at the two of them, feeling as if his unbeating heart might burst from his chest. Wooyoung is looking at him with doe-like eyes, curious and innocent, something that he'd always had, even as a human. Here, right in front of him, stands Wooyoung without a single difference he can see.

"I remembered your voice," Wooyoung says. "You told me to remember you and find you. And, well, I might not remember you, but I found you thanks to Yeosang here." He grins brightly, and god, San has missed that smile.

It's as if Wooyoung hasn't changed a bit.

"Wooyoung, I..."

With quivering lips, San steps forward and throws his arms around Wooyoung, clinging onto his body like he would lose him again. His face is wet again, with what he's come to terms with as _tears._ He remembers hating seeing them on Wooyoung because all he'd ever known tears to be were signs of sadness. But what he feels now doesn't feel like sadness.

When Wooyoung's arms finally wrap around him, he sobs. "San... it really is you. I remember." Wooyoung's voice breaks as if he's about to cry as well. He hugs him back just as tightly, a silent promise that they will never let go. "I remember you."

"God, Wooyoung, I'm... fuck, I'm—" San chokes on a sob, burying his wet face into Wooyoung's neck. "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

"Don't be sorry, San," Wooyoung says softly. "I told you, if I could become a demon and live forever with you, I would. And now... I _am._ "

When San finally pulls away, glossy eyes to glossy eyes, Wooyoung's flare into an electric shade of violet. He smiles, sharp canines in place of blunt ones, as San feels Wooyoung's hands travel beneath his shirt, dragging claws across his skin. "I'd be so, so happy to exist alongside you forever," Wooyoung murmurs, pressing his forehead to San's.

And oh, how San has missed this.

"I love you, Wooyoung," San whispers.

"And I love _you_ , San."

It's no longer a voice in San's head. It's no longer Wooyoung's tired voice on the brink of death. It's _here_ , in the present.

"And now, we have forever," San finishes.

Beside their embrace, someone clears their throat. Frowning with distaste, San releases Wooyoung from his arms and opens his eyes to see both Seonghwa _and_ Yeosang standing there, appearing endlessly amused. Without even looking at each other, they give each other a fist bump. "Never in all my years of existence did I think I would be in the known presence of three other demons. Oh, how the universe has blessed us all," Seonghwa sighs.

"That's Seonghwa, right?" Wooyoung leans in and asks.

"I'm surprised you remember him. When you died, I didn't tell you to remember his name." Seonghwa, with his oh so sharp hearing, frowns at San's snide remark. "But yeah. That's Seonghwa."

"It is good to have you back with us, Wooyoung," Seonghwa says with a bow. "I must say... this is certainly, erm, 'mind-blowing.' I did not know it was possible for such a thing to happen. It leaves me wondering, how was Wooyoung able to come back as a demon? Was it an unyielding desire to live? Was it San's eternal love? A combination?"

"It doesn't matter," San says, snaking an arm around Wooyoung's waist. "What matters is that he's back now." He turns to his now demon lover, who looks back at him with a smile that is still _human._ "And now, we can keep our promises."

Yeosang sniffles and wipes away an invisible tear, earning an unamused frown from San. The incubus sighs, his expression softening. "Thank you, though. Both of you. Without you guys, Wooyoung probably wouldn't have returned. I owe you both."

Seonghwa scoffs, shrugging with a generous smile. "San, there is nothing you _can_ owe us. We're demons."

"Right."

"Oh! That reminds me!" Wooyoung suddenly exclaims. "San, I eat hearts, just like you do. I'm just, uh, less picky. You know how you eat evil hearts? Well, I just eat hearts. Any heart. They all taste the same to me."

San smirks and raises an eyebrow. "Oh yeah? And what do they taste like?"

"I... don't know," Wooyoung answers bashfully. "But they all taste good."

"Perhaps Wooyoung can accompany you on your heart-eating journeys," Yeosang quips.

With a devilish smirk, Wooyoung's eyes flash purple again at the suggestion.

San has a lot of questions. He wonders a lot of things. And sure, while the unanswered questions nag at him, he's able to shove them away because they don't matter. Not when Wooyoung is _here_ , in the demon flesh, with beautiful purple eyes and claws just like him. He's returned, he's _found_ him (thanks to Yeosang, of course), and now, the two have eternity together.

And somehow, everything and nothing changes.

When San lays Wooyoung down that night, there's no shortage. There's no stopping. When both of their bodies have limitless capabilities, there's no need to stop for pleasure. Even between two demons, San can still feel Wooyoung like he did when he was human. It's _warm._ It's _pleasure._ It's _Wooyoung._

San is pretty sure they fuck on every surface in his condo by the time the sun rises, and even then, the curtain blocks out the light. San loves the atmosphere, dim lighting and their glowing eyes spelling fiery passion, making up for who knows how long, and as they go back and forth, they don't stop. Even after Wooyoung comes the fifth time and San the seventh, they keep going. They don't need to breathe.

They have _forever_.

***

Wooyoung remembers a lot, but he doesn't remember his old friends.

"Do you want any of your old life back?" San asks him. "I can make it possible. I erased their memories of you, but I can easily return them."

Wooyoung smiles and shakes his head, intertwining his fingers with San's. "Don't worry about it. I mean, don't get me wrong, I'd love to make friends again, but I'd want it to be _new._ I want people to have brand new memories of me. Like, even if I were to meet these old friends of mine, it's not like I would remember them and vice versa, so I think it would be cool to make friends from scratch, y'know? Although from what I remember, you were always a lone wolf, but I don't think I was that way. Was I? I can't really remember."

San laughs and kisses him, short and sweet. "You weren't a lone wolf, but you weren't exactly a social butterfly either. You were, however, unabashedly you." Lifting Wooyoung's hand, he presses a tender kiss to it. "And if you want to start anew, then by all means. I will be by your side no matter what."

"And I, you, San."

With their fingers interlaced, San and Wooyoung hover above the city just below the clouds, gazing down upon the good and the evil, eternally in love, and with unbeating hearts, they start anew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :')
> 
> the next part is gonna be a doozy lol
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/galaxysangs)


	12. finalem

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oof okay so this last part is just short, self-indulgent gory smut. in summary, they fuck after eating a heart and they're covered in blood. so like if that's not your cup of tea i'd just not read this part lol
> 
> (and yes, wooyoung can now self-lubricate too!)

San's hand cradles the organ delicately, his black claws curving around it in a dramatic contrast. It's a bright, fresh red, its evil blood tricking down his fingers, wrist, and even down to his forearm. He licks his top lip, watching as his lover tenderly grabs his bicep and runs his tongue up his forearm, collecting the blood on his tongue before sinking his fangs into the heart. Wooyoung's lips close around a chunk of the organ before tearing away, a small waterfall of blood following after.

"You're so beautiful," San says in utter adoration, red eyes boring into violet as he takes his own portion of it. Having years worth of experience doing this, he takes a single bite and offers the rest to Wooyoung. He feeds it to him, wrapping his other clawed hand around the back of Wooyoung's neck and allowing him to eat it right out of the palm of his hand. Wooyoung eats until there's not a single piece of flesh left and suckles San's fingers into his mouth, closing his lips around his claws and fingertips. His tongue curls around each of San's fingers, lapping up any droplets of blood.

When he's finished, San's hands are stained both black and red, and there are smudges of blood all around Wooyoung's mouth. The sweet liquid coats them both, their naked bodies having been soiled during the attack. The man's corpse has long been forgotten, dumped somewhere on the floor next to the motel bed, but his blood, his sweet sweet blood and his evil heart, are what sends both demons into a lust-filled haze.

Everywhere is red. As San kisses down Wooyoung's chest, his mouth spreads blood further down his body, painting it red with the blood of evil. It's delectable, enticing, seeing Wooyoung like this, splayed out on the bed, body a scarlet mess, his cock rock hard and leaking precome already. San drags his claws down Wooyoung's abdomen as he wraps his bloodstained lips around the head of Wooyoung's cock, enveloping it in red.

"I love you," Wooyoung moans out as San engulfs the entirety of his length. San grabs onto it, stroking it in time with his mouth with the intention of seeing it covered even more.

San loves seeing Wooyoung in red.

He pulls off with a loud pop, a snarl escaping his lips before he crashes them to Wooyoung's, a collision of tongue and spit and blood, fangs knocking against each other in a frenzy, but neither of them care. It's _messy_ , and San usually hates messes, but he certainly doesn't hate this. He loves sharing this existence with Wooyoung, as adamant he had been in the beginning, and Wooyoung loves it just the same.

Together, they feast on the hearts of villains and bask in blood and love.

Wooyoung's own bloody claws tangle in San's hair, spreading his legs as he bucks his hips up, their wet, bloodstained cocks sliding against each other. "San," he gasps as San pulls away and lowers his hips, allowing his cock to slip between his legs and prod at his leaking entrance. "God, fuck me already."

San chuckles darkly, pushing his cock past the rim and burying himself to the hilt inside his lover. He watches Wooyoung's lower half with lips parted in amazement. The fusion of blood and Wooyoung's slick make for a deliciously wet, crimson sight and obscene sounds that reverberate off the walls whenever San's hips collide with Wooyoung's. All the while, Wooyoung's moans add to the mix, such a beautiful sound that San swears he will never get tired of.

"You look so beautiful like this," San grunts, pushing Wooyoung's legs apart by the inner thighs and watching as his hand leaves bloody prints on the silky skin. Wooyoung's cock is glistening with spit and slick and blood even under the dingy motel lighting, his entire torso mottled by blood as well. He grips the sheets with his own bloody hands, claws probably poking holes into it, but he's too lost in San to care.

He doesn't care one bit.

San reconnects their lips again, relishing in the pure wetness of everything, blood, spit, and slick everywhere, soaking and staining the sheets and their own bodies. Every single second of ardor and heat, San will cherish as if it's his last day of existence.

San knows he won't lose Wooyoung again, but that doesn't stop him from fucking him and loving him like he will.

"I love you," Wooyoung whispers against his bloody lips. "I love you so fucking much."

With an open mind but ragged breaths, choked up by pleasure, San says it back.

_I love you too._

Wooyoung just chuckles, clenching around San and squeezing him tight, earning a surprised and pleasured groan. "Fuck, Wooyoung."

"Want you to come in me."

San knows Wooyoung loves it. He loves to be filled, loves to be stuffed full of come until it's overflowing. And _this_ , the image of come tinted red with blood dribbling out of Wooyoung's hole is enough to spur San on. He drives himself forward until he can't anymore and spills inside, feeling Wooyoung's walls seize around him as Wooyoung's own orgasm hits.

"F-Fuck, Sannie," Wooyoung whimpers, thighs twitching as San unloads everything he has.

San stills himself, letting Wooyoung's body soak up his come before he finally pulls out, a gush of slick following. He manhandles Wooyoung to his hands and knees, spreading his cheeks and watching as his come pours out from Wooyoung's hole, dripping down his taint and bloodstained thighs and pooling on the sheets below. With long flicks of his tongue, San laps up whatever's left as Wooyoung's thighs continue to tremble.

And they keep going.

Wooyoung flips San over until his head is near dangling off the edge of the bed. Grabbing onto his shoulders, Wooyoung pushes inside and thrusts effortlessly and relentlessly, as this is what their bodies were made for. It's easy, but it's pleasurable all the same.

_I'm yours. All yours._

San never thought he would belong to anything, let alone anybody. But everything in him, whatever he has, belongs to Wooyoung.

_And I am yours._

Perhaps Wooyoung had always belonged to San, ever since the night he saved him. With the scars on his throat as a permanent reminder, he is undoubtedly bound to San in more ways than one.

Whatever evil the world throws their way, they will be ready for it. They both know that evil will never cease to exist, but as long as it exist, so will they.

They had their chances alive, and now, they have their chances undead. United, they will only continue to be evil's downfall until the last human heartbeat, the last breath of fresh air, and while there's no way they can rid the world of evil entirely, that only means they will always have a purpose.

_Wooyoung, my love, may our existences be forever._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW THAT WAS SO CHEESY OKAY
> 
> somehow, this fic ended up being longer than AEA even though this was an idea that i got at the most random time and decided to write on impulse with absolutely no planning whatsoever. i don't even know anymore y'all. but thank you for sticking with me through this roller coaster of a fic. i hope you all enjoyed.
> 
> come find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/galaxysangs)!


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